


The Pirate's Princess

by an_upset_librarian



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Bellarke, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Multi, Pirate AU, and i wrote the first 5 chapters a long time ago, should be fun, so if you can get through those i promise it's a lot better, soon, soon there will be relationship development, with slowburn bellarke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-03-03 14:40:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 75,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2854487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_upset_librarian/pseuds/an_upset_librarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a steampunk victorian world that's overrun by pirates, Princess Clarke Griffin escapes from her palace home after learning a terrible secret about her country and ends up on a pirate ship. Not just any pirate ship, Bellamy Blake's terrible The 100 pirate ship. Under the scrutiny of the handsome captain, and running from her dark past, can Clarke do what needs to be done to survive? T for language and violence. Slowburn Bellarke</p><p>(just fixed the formatting for chapters 1-7 so sorry about that)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, so this is a steampunky pirate au that's been burning a hole in my mind forever, and I hope y'all like it! It's gonna be a slow Bellarke burn with angst and all. I eat kudos and comments and spit out new chapters! Let me know if this is worth continuing please!

CHAPTER ONE

Clarke walked calmly down the pier towards the ship she'd been directed to buy some sailors earlier that day. According to her sources, the ship she was walking towards was a cruise ship heading out of the kingdom- which was where she needed to be. This information had cost her a pretty penny, however, and Clarke was starting to run out of pretty pennies. It was stupid to carry as much gold on her person as she was, but she didn't want to risk having to beg or steal for basic necessities. It was a wonder no one had recognized her yet, she didn't need to become an outlaw when she was already a fugitive. Trying not to wince, Clarke ignored the burning pain in her abdomen and stood with perfect posture as she had been taught in years of etiquette lessons. So what if she was wounded, she was royal and would walk as such.

"Is this the Phoenix?" Clarke asks a crewman as she walks up to the ship. The man is carting crates onto the ship along with some other members of his crew. He's dressed in a smart white uniform, and has a gun strapped to his leg. Clarke eyes the gun warily, but puts on her "princess smile", the one that she had been raised to use when in the company of nobility or other such high esteemed people.

"Yes it is ma'am. Can I help you?" The crewman asked, looking over her fancy petticoats with an approving glint. Clarke resisted the urge to tug her cloak in closer, and instead she smiled at the man.

"I was wondering if it were possible for me to buy passage on your vessel. I hear you are heading toward the Southern Kingdoms, and I would like to join." Clarke says sweetly.

"Well, ma'am. I'm not sure if we have an empty cabin, but I can take you to the captain." The sailor said warily. Clarke just curtsied, letting out a sharp gasp of pain at the movement, and smiled again.

"That would be wonderful, if you don't mind." The sailor gestured for Clarke to follow him, and she walked up the tall gangway and onto the large ship. Clarke's bag bounced against her thigh as she trudged up the wooden plank. Her relatively small bag was the only thing she had brought with her, it had a few medical supplies and some extra clothes but that was it. Clarke looked up at the large ship in awe. There were two stories, that Clarke could see, and it was one of the biggest luxury ships she had ever seen. It was almost as big as a Royal Battleship. The sailor led Clarke to a cabin that was labeled "Captain's Quarters" and he knocked on the door. The door opened, revealing an older man, Clarke assumed he was at least fifty, wearing a stark white and blue uniform with gold bands on the shoulders. He had a beard that presented how much he valued cleanliness based on how well groomed it was.

"What is it?" He asked gruffly, looking Clarke up and down.

"Sir! This lady would like to buy passage on our ship to the Southern Kingdoms." The sailor said with a salute. The captain nodded and gestured to the sailor to get back to work. The sailor left without looking back. Clarke swallowed heavily and turned to the Captain with another charming smile.

"What takes you to the Southern Kingdom so urgently, miss?" The captain asked.

"I'm afraid my great-aunt has fallen ill. She's a Duchess is one of the kingdoms, and I have been asked to visit her for her last moments and take her place in the household." Clarke recited. She made sure to cast her eyes down in sadness and wring her hands together. She had practiced her story in the days before she had escaped, and knew exactly what to say to win over the Captain of a luxury ship.

"I see. That is unfortunate. I am very sorry to hear that. I believe we may be able to house you on your journey. My name is Captain Ward, and this is my ship, the Phoenix. May I ask for your name?" Captain Ward asked, bowing down respectfully.

"Of course. My name is Francesca. Francesca De Moines. It is a pleasure to meet you, Captain Ward. I am so very thankful for your help. May I ask the cost of my shelter?" Clarke replied smoothly.

"Ah yes, of course. From here to the Southern Kingdoms is a long journey, about a month and a half. Your fare will include housing, food and water, and protection. There have been more and more pirate attacks lately, buy you need not worry my dear. We are very well equipped to handle such a threat. I'll let you pay half now, and half when we reach your destination. So your first payment will be one hundred Silvings."

One-hundred Silvings? That was ten gold coins worth! Even for this ship, that was asking for a lot. Clarke couldn't let the captain see her hesitate though, since he believed she was part of a wealthy noble family.

"Of course. Here you are." Clarke said with a smile, pulling out ten gold coins from her hand purse as if they were nothing. The captain took the coins with a wide grin and welcomed Clarke to her new home. Well, at least for the next month and a half. When Clarke had finally locked herself inside her new cabin, she leaned against the door and groaned. She was standing in a good-sized room, just big enough for one person to live in without feeling too cramped. There was a small bed in the corner under a porthole, and a door led to what she assumed to be the bathroom. The room was nice, but definitely not worth ten whole gold coins. Sighing, Clarke peeled off the heavy layers of her dress and limped into the bathroom. Red had soaked through the pale white under-dress Clark been wearing. Swearing, Clarke lifted the dress to reveal her blood soaked bandages. It looked like she had opened her stitches with all the walking around she had been doing. Clarke unbound the gauze from her torso to inspect her wound, the memory of how it had been inflicted flashing to the front of her mind.

Clarke had made it out of the outer wall, and was running through the busy city streets. Panic and adrenaline was the only thing keeping her moving at that point, and she needed to find a place to hide before she was caught, or collapsed. Clarke ducked through an ally way and onto another less-crowded street. Clarke slowed down to a brisk walk, her heavy dress weighing her down and the skirts swished obnoxiously, limiting Clarke's movement. Clarke took a deep breath and counted to sixty. After reaching sixty, Clarke relaxed a bit. Maybe she had lost the Guards. Right as the thought crossed her mind, Clarke heard yelling from behind her.

Stealing a look over her shoulder, Clarke saw a few members of the Guard pointing at her and running. Clarke clenched her jaw and started to run again. She saw the townspeople stare at her curiously. Seeing a teen girl wearing the most expensive clothes money could buy and running of all things in them was bound to shock some people. Stares were the least of Clarke's worries right now, however. Clarke heard more yelling, and a gunshot rang through the street, shocking both Clarke and the citizens. Clarke ducked instinctively and turned around. One of the Guard had pulled his gun and was aiming right at Clarke. Dread filled her heart as she realized that because of what she knew, her mother was willing to have her killed.

"Get out of the way! Run!" Clarke yelled, waving her arms at the people in the street. The Guard took advantage of Clarke's position and took another shot, this time hitting his mark. The bullet tore through Clarke's side, passing right through the first inch of her gut, coincidentally right across from her belly button. Clarke screamed in pain, but forced herself to crawl along the street towards a crowd of people, where she had a chance of blending in. Luck was finally on her side, and the Guards walked right by her. Wincing, Clarke limped over to a merchant stand and swiped a dark cloak from off the table. She felt bad for stealing, but she needed the cover the cloak provided. Clarke hid in an ally way and took off the top layer of her dress, which luckily hadn't been stained by any blood yet. Clarke felt around the wound from the front and the back and was happy that the iron casing had gone right through her.

Clarke tore a hunk of cloth from one of her many dress layers, and stuffed it in her mouth. What she was about to do would be very painful. Clarke never left the castle without medical supplies, a lesson from her Master, and she pulled a needle and thread out of her bag. Grimacing, Clarke made sure no one was around before threading the needle and hooking it through her skin. The makeshift gag muffled Clarke's screams, and she clumsily sutured her wounds.

Clarke was jolted out of her reverie when the ship started moving. Stumbling, Clarke made her way to the porthole and saw the port slowly fading away into the distance. Clarke stood in front of the porthole until all land had completely disappeared from sight. Clarke sighed in relief. She made it. She had finally escaped the Arc, and could finally start her plan to get justice for her father's murder. Smiling, Clarke once again pulled out the bloody needle and stuffed a wad of cloth in her mouth again. Time to repeat the process. Gasping, Clarke sewed herself back together without a sound.

After eating some dinner in her quarters, Clarke had finally fallen asleep when sounds of alarm filled the air. Jumping up quickly, and immediately regretting her decision after the pain flooded her body, Clarke ran over to the porthole and gazed out into the night. A dark shape blocked out the light of the starts and part of the dark ocean. Squinting, Clarke tried to make out what the thing was. Suddenly, a ray of moonlight lit it up, revealing a ship. Not any ship, however. Clarke groaned when she saw the pirate flag swaying in the wind. Just her luck. Clarke stood at the window, rubbing her sleepy eyes to try and convince herself she was dreaming, or that it was all a terrible hallucination, but the ship still floated on the horizon, slowly but surely making its way to the cruise ship. Cursing, Clarke wobbled over to her suitcase, looking to see if she had packed a simpler dress. She might be able to pass of as a servant on the ship if she could get the damn dress off.

Clarke gasped as all of her movement caught up with her, causing her wound to throb in painful protest. Gritting her teeth, Clarke pushed through the pain to gather her things. Clarke tore off another strip of cloth and tied it around her upper thigh. She took her coin purse and slipped it between her thigh and the cloth, and then she wrapped more cloth around it to secure it to her leg. She would have slipped it into her corset, but if the ship was about to be taken by pirates, there was sure to be some unsavory types that would even "search" her bosom. Clarke stripped down to her under dress, which was still made from fancy silks, but not as noticeable as the layered petticoats. She pulled on her cloak and stuffed her med kit into one of the inner pockets. Clarke looked around for some kind of weapon, cursing her stupidity for leaving the palace without a knife, or even a gun. She stumbled around the cabin, her vision cloudy and head dizzy.

"…lost a lot of blood, need iron…" Clarke mumbled. She reached into her bag clumsily and pulled out a bag of herbs. She dug through the herbs and grabbed a known plant that helped wounded soldiers last longer in the battlefield. It had been developed in a lab during the Great War and Clarke was lucky to have some. She tore off a chunk and stuffed it in her mouth. The leaves were bitter and Clarke almost threw up what she had eaten for dinner. Clarke then looked through the bag for capsaicin, a painkiller. She grabbed a tiny amount, not wanting to waste any just yet, and quickly swallowed the ground up plant.

Clarke felt a little better as the drugs took effect, but her gut clenched as she heard a cannon shot. Shouts echoed throughout the ship, and Clarke looked out the porthole again. The pirate ship was docked right next to The Phoenix. She could hear the shouts of the pirates through the ship and sweat dripped down her brow. Another shot rant out, this time hitting the ship. Clarke struggled to keep her balance as the ship rocked from the momentum. Judging from the sound and turbulence, the cannonball must have hit somewhere close by. Clarke rushed out of her cabin and into the crowded hallway. Women in their fine silk nightgowns and slippers cried out, and the men grumbled but had a worried look on their faces. If the captain or someone didn't do something soon, panic would spread and cause chaos.

Clarke hoped for some chaos so she could slip away unnoticed and try to find a place to hide. Loud thuds sounded from above them, followed by loud bellows and gunshots. The pirates had boarded.

Clarke pushed against the screaming mob and ran towards the sounds of fighting. She clutched her injury, a grimace marring her features. Scowling, Clarke forced her way through frantic, panicky women and men, making her way to the front deck. Her coin purse jangled against her thigh, and Clarke reached under her skirt to tighten the cloth around it. A stray elbow jammed into Clarke's wound, making her fall to her knees. Tears burned in her eyes, and Clarke scooted over against the wall to try and get out of the path of the stampede of panicked passengers. Bags and flying limbs smacked into her, creating a relentless barrage of pain. Clarke slowly opened her eyes when the clamor stopped. All of the wealthy passengers were frozen in the hall. Clarke heard triumphant shouts from above, and knew all was lost. She pulled her hand away from her chest, and winced. Her hand was sticky with blood, and the cloth of her dress pulled away with her hand, stuck to the drying blood.

Panting, Clarke pushed up against the wall, using it as support for her aching body. She heard whimpering and then the loud thump of footsteps trudging down the stairs from the main deck. The steps kept in time with her heartbeat, thump-thump-thump. Clarke saw a man descend from the stairs, but the crowd clouded her view. All she saw was a clump of dark brown curls and a smirk. Great. A cocky bastard, was Clarke's first thought.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?" The man chuckled sarcastically. "It looks to me, boys, that we happened upon a luxury cruise ship!"

Chuckles echoed from behind the man, as more pirates filled the already crowded hall. Clarke looked around to see that the passengers were surrounded by pirates- a band of them blocking each exit.

"Now, all I really ask, as a simple businessman, is for you all to hand over your valuables without a fight. I'm only lookin' to make honest money." The man declared, his deep voice echoing throughout the silent corridor. His cohorts laughed again.

"Who do you think you are, you pirate?" A man spat. Stupid. Clarke thought. Don't provoke the gun-toting maniac.

"I think I am in charge of this vessel now, and that you should listen to me." The man stated simply. Clarke heard the sound of a sword being drawn, and her blood ran cold. A gurgled cry rang through the ship, and Clarke heard the thump of a body hitting the ground. Clarke couldn't see through the mob of people, but what she heard made her blood run cold. A woman cried out, but otherwise the ship was deathly silent.

"Any more objections?" The voice asked, only to hear silence in reply.

The pirates pooled the passengers out onto the main deck and into the cool night air. The cold wind felt good against Clarke's burning skin, and she drank in the fresh air. Loud shouts and bangs could be heard from bellow deck as the pirates ransacked the ship. Every once and a while, a pirate would emerge from the bellows of the ship with a sack filled with valuables. Clarke could see The Phoenix crew tied up against the different masts, each stripped of any and all possible weapons. These pirates were thorough, that was for sure.

"Alright ladies and gents. Time to take off all your shiny things." A pirate said with a devilish smile. He had goggles resting on top of his head, and a young Asian man followed him around with a cheery smile. The goggled pirate walked through the crowd of passengers with an open sack, the passengers slipped off their rings and watches, necklaces and bracelets, and slowly dropped them in the sack.

"What about you, pretty lady?" Got anything shiny for us?" Goggles asked, stopping in front of Clarke. Clarke glared at the pirate and raised her hand from within her cloak to flip him off.

"Wow. We gotta feisty one here." The Asian man whistled. Both the pirates gave Clarke a once over, and their eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Now what's a pretty girl like you, doing on a ship like this without anything shiny?" Goggles asked.

"Just a simple maid trying to earn a living. Just like you." Clarke spat. Chuckling, Goggles looked at his friend, who nodded.

"Hey Capt'n! I think you should come over here for a second!" Goggles yelled. Panic and adrenaline coursed through Clarke's veins. Shit. She shouldn't have flipped Goggles off, she should have just laid low and given him her necklace or something. That's when Clarke remembered that engraved on her locket was her family seal. The royal seal. Adrenaline was the only thing keeping Clarke from passing out, and she definitely had enough adrenaline to stand tall at the moment.

"What's wrong, Jasper?" A deep voice asked. The crowd of passengers parted, revealing a tall man sauntering down towards her. The man had dark curls, and Clarke thought she saw freckles dotting his face in the moonlight. He was over a head taller than her, and had a rapier strapped to his belt. His leather boots pounded against the wooden deck, his dark coat flapping around his legs. Clarke took note of the gun secured to his hip. Guns were hard to come by, even for the Royal Army it was rare for a soldier to own a gun. Clarke jutted out her jaw and glared at the pirate captain.

"This lady here claims to be a maid. And she doesn't have anything shiny." Goggles, or now Jasper, said. Squaring her shoulders, and ignoring the pain in her stomach, Clarke scowled at the captain.

"Oh, does she now? What makes you so special, princess?" The captain said. Clarke's heart stopped at the nickname, until she realized that he was trying to insult her. Smirking, Clarke's eyebrow rose and she looked the man up and down.

"Nothing. Just working my way to the South." She said. Breathing was starting to hurt, and Clarke knew that she wasn't going to last long in her current condition. The captain laughed and smacked Jasper on the back.

"You always find the interesting ones, don't you?" He said. Clarke struggled to keep her eyes wide open and locked on to the captains.

"Don't worry, Cap. She's bound to be hiding something." The Asian boy said with a shrug.

"Girl like that don't take a ship like this as a maid."

"You're right, Monty. What are you hiding, huh princess?" The captain asked. He slowly stepped closer and closer to Clarke until he was toe to toe with her, looming over her shaking frame.

"I have nothing to hide." Clarke growled. The captain smiled with false charm and grabbed her necklace and tugged it off her neck with a snap. He looked down at the seal, then back at her. She clenched her jaw, and resisted the urge to crumple into a ball and scream. The captain must have seen something in her face, for he squinted and looked down at her chest. Clarke clenched her fists tight enough to draw blood from her palm as an attempt at distracting herself from the pain in her side. The herbs were wearing off, or she didn't take enough to help. Sweat dripped down her brow, and the Captain's eyes widened in realization. He reached for her cloak and slowly opened it, ignoring the chuckles from his crew- who had gathered around to see what the fuss was all about.

Clarke heard the captain's intake of breath when he saw her blood soaked dress.

"Well shit." He murmured.

"Fuck, what the hell?" Clarke heard Jasper mutter from behind the captain.

"Take her to the ship! Grab all you can, we're leaving!" The captain shouted.

"What? But we don't have everything yet! Why are we taking her? Just leave her to die!" Jasper shouted back. The captain looked down at her necklace, then back at Jasper, who paled underneath his Captain's gaze.

"I said, pack up. We are leaving." The captain said slowly. Jasper nodded and waved to the rest of the pirates to start ferrying the sacks of gold onto the pirate ship. Clarke panted tried to turn and run, but only succeeded in falling to the ground with a groan.

"Oh no you don't, sweetheart. You're coming with us. We have a lot to discuss." The captain said, picking her up and throwing her across his shoulder. Clarke cried out in pain, and remembered only the ocean waves crashing against two ships as she was carried across a gangplank and onto a pirate ship.

Clarke drifted in and out of consciousness, images of a beautiful, angry, freckled face floating though her mind. Clarke slowly slid out of her slumber and felt the warmth of the sun on her face. Her eyes blinked open slowly, meeting the dark wood of a ceiling above her and she groaned. Her entire body ached. She turned her head to the source of the light and saw a porthole with the sun shining through it. Squinting, Clarke slowly sat up, hissing in pain as her wound stung. She lifted the blankets lying on top of her to look at her now bandaged chest. She touched the tightly wound wrappings, impressed at the skill of her healer. She sat up completely and turned away from the window, her feet touching the cool wood floor. She moved to get up from the bed, but stumbled when her left hand was yanked back.

"What the…" Clarke muttered, looking over at her hand. A metal cuff encircled her pale wrist, attached to some chain, which was then wrapped around the bed frame. Scowling, Clarke dug around in her hair for a pin, smiling in triumph when she found one still stuck in her blonde hair.

"Captain, where do you think you're goin'?" Jasper asked, following after the tall frame of his captain.

"I heard something from the girl's quarters." He replied, gruffly. Rolling his eyes, Jasper ran to keep up with the long strides of the Captain.

"Obviously you heard something. What else would a girl do except scream when she wakes up strapped to a strange bed? Wouldn't you?" Jasper yelled after the man. The Captain just turned around and glared at Jasper. He stopped in front of one of the doors in the corridor, and pulled out a key from one of his many pockets. He gestured to Jasper to stand back, and he knocked while opening the door.

"Princess? You awa- oww! What the fu-" Came the loud shouts from within. Jasper rushed in, his hand on his sword, but stopped when he saw the scene in the room.

"This, this is- you are never going to live this down, Cap." Jasper chuckled. When the Captain had opened the door, Clarke was waiting and had smacked him upside the head with a chunk of wood that was once the bedpost. After he had gone down, she'd jumped around him and held him in a strangle hold with the chain while strapping the metal cuff onto his wrist and hooking the chain around the bed frame.

"Shut up Jasper, get me out of this thing." The Captain ordered, refusing to meet Jasper's gaze.

"Who are you? Where am I? What's going on? Don't come any closer!" Clarke exclaimed. She lifted her makeshift club and waved it at Jasper, who raised his arms in surrender.

"Easy there, Princess." The Captain said from the floor.

"Don't call me that!" Clarke spat, pointing the club at him. She backed away from the men and stopped when her back hit the far wall by the window. Panting, she clutched her stomach.

"Hey, you need rest. Just lay back down and we'll talk, kay?" Jasper said calmly. The Captain was sputtering out a creative curse and unlocking the cuff with a key Jasper had thrown to him.

"Listen to me, Princess. We're not here to make you feel a nice and fuzzy. We are pirates and we just looted the ship you were on! You are wearing an interesting necklace, and I want to know who you are. So. Put down the bed frame, and sit down!" The Captain yelled, walking closer and closer to Clarke as he spoke until he was, once again, toe to toe with her. Clarke actually growled at the man, and stepped up so she was right in his face.

"Make me." She said darkly, before fainting, for the second time, into his (very muscular) arms.

Clarke woke, once again, strapped down to a strange bed. The difference this time was that she had a cuff on each wrist and they were wrapped around the bars on the porthole and then tied to a newly installed metal bar on the floor. Sighing, Clarke sat up to face the stern face of the ship's Captain. He was sitting on a chair that was placed right up against the foot of Clarke's bed.

"So. Nice place you've got here. Really liking the bdsm feel." Clarke spat sarcastically. The Captain's lips twitched and he took a deep breath.

"Very funny. You going to talk now?" He asked simply. Clarke raised her chin in defiance and stared down the Captain. He stared right back, and they sat staring each other down for a few minutes.

"I stole it." Clarke said.

"The locket? As if. It has a royal seal." The captain scoffed.

"So? I still stole it. Got it from a room on a ship in a port."

"Really? Just happened upon a royal important enough to have the royal seal embossed on their locket?"

"I'm pretty lucky."

"Nobody's that lucky." The captain sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling.

"Say that I believe you, which is a long shot. What are you going to do now, since you are on my pirate ship now." He asked. Clarke looked out the porthole, noticing how far down the sun had gone.

"Survive." She replied quietly, turning to meet his dark eyes. The Captain stood up and unlocked Clarke's wrists. Rubbing the tender flesh, Clarke stood up and looked at the man questioningly. He nodded for her to follow him and left the room. Clarke hurried after him. They walked through many different halls before ascending a staircase. Clarke gasped when she felt the fresh sea air on her face. The cool wind blew caressed her skin and Clarke smiled.

"Welcome to my ship. We're in need of another crewman, if you're up to the task, that is." The Captain said, waving his arms to show off the main deck.

"What's in it for me?" Clarke asked.

"Just like a pirate already. Well, you get food, shelter, and a job. What else are you going to do. Where else are you going to go?" Bellamy asked, nodding towards the seemingly endless ocean around the ship. Clarke didn't have much of a choice. It seemed as if she was to become a pirate, which was probably better than the palace at this point. She nodded at the Captain, and walked to lean on the railing, her wound stinging. The Captain smiled and spread his arms wide.

"Welcome to the crew. We're the 100, and I'm the Captain. You can call me Bellamy."


	2. Chapter 2

Clarke knew that her new captain was a petty asshole, but this was icing on the cake of douchery. Not only was she practically his slave since being taken in, but she was constantly degraded by the other members of the crew. After Bellamy’s dramatic welcome speech, she’d been strapped back down in her bed and ordered to get rested for the most work in her life-and exact quote from the Captain. All she’d done for the first week was clean and get in the crews way and be useless. Lying in bed that first night, Clarke struggled to fall asleep. Her wound had been hurting her all day, so she decided to take matters into her own hands. She sat up and lifted up her dress, using only the light of the moon reflecting off the water for light. She’d unbound her gauze and inspected the wound to the best of her ability. It looked like whoever had stitched her up had known what they were doing, except the wound itself was oozing pus around the sutures and had a strange discoloration.

  
The wound was in danger of getting infected, and needed some sort of disinfectant. Clarke tried to get enough slack from the chains to get to the door, but to no avail. She stamped her foot and groaned.

  
“Hey! Captain Asshole! I need something alcoholic! Get me rum or something! I’m sure you pirates have something with alcohol in it, don’t you?” She screamed. She waited for a few more minutes, and then heard stumbling and muttered curses.

  
“What the hell are you yelling about?” Bellamy asked as he opened up her door.

  
“I need beer or rum or something,” She replied.

  
“If you wanted something to drink, princess, you could’ve just asked-what are you doing?” Bellamy had drawn a flask from his overcoat-which was thrown over his cotton pants. Clarke had snatched the flask from his hand, opened it, and was now pouring the liquid on her wound with an audible hiss.

  
“Ouch, that stings. Oh, I needed it to disinfect my injury,” She said, handing the now empty flask back to the befuddled captain.

  
“You wasted my very expensive, very hard to find, whiskey on disinfecting your wound?” Bellamy exclaimed.

  
“Sorry if I’m not interested in dying just yet. I still have some things to take care of. Besides, you wouldn’t want your new crewmember to drop dead on you?” she said with a shrug. She climbed back into her bed and drew up the sheets, ignoring the stunned look on the Captain’s face.

  
“So you’re a healer?” He asked slowly, still shocked at the last stunning minute of his life.  
“Mostly. I almost finished my training before I r- umm, before I left to the ship,” Clarke said, catching herself right before accidentally spilling her secret. Bellamy gave her a blank look, his sleepy mind still processing the loss of his whiskey.

  
“We could use a healer. I guess that’s your official title,” He said with a smug look.

  
“I’ve always wanted to be a healer on a pirate ship. Been my dream since I was a little girl. Rescuing damsals in distress, killing innocents, and stealing all the gold I could ever want,” she said sarcastically. Bellamy just gave her an exasperated look and rolled his eyes.

  
“You can leave now. I need sleep,” She said with a wave of dismissal. Bellamy, to say the least, was not amused. And so began their first night living on the same ship.

 ................. 

“Get back here, Princess. We’re not done.” Bellamy said, grabbing Clarke’s arm and stopping her from walking away from him.  
“So what? You can smack me around again?” Clarke spat back, yanking her arm out of his grasp.

  
“If you’re going to be a pirate, you need to learn how to fight,” Bellamy said with a roll of his eyes.

  
“I can fight just fine!” Clarke retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. For the last hour or so, Bellamy had been “teaching” her how to fight with a sword, if his method was even close to teaching. All he did was toss a sword at her and then run at her, his rapier flying. Some of the crew had gathered to watch, chuckling at the duo’s argument. So far, she had only met Monty and Jasper, as well as the cook Harper, but that was it for people she knew on this boat.

  
“Obviously not. Why else would you be covered in bruises and complaining?” Bellamy said with an exasperated sigh.

  
“Maybe if you would actually teach instead of this bullshit, I might actually learn something,” Clarke yelled. She stomped up to Bellamy and glared at him. She whipped the sword up in an attempt at cutting him, but he quickly parried her blow with a swift twitch of his hand. He glared right back, and then sighed again. He tightened his grip on his rapier, and thrust his hand in Clarke’s face.

  
“This is how you hold a sword, not like a bird claw,” He said. She looked at the way Bellamy’s hand gripped the hilt, and quickly fixed her grip on her sword to match it, holding it up next to his for comparison.

  
“Now hold it in front of you, like this. No, like this,” Bellamy stated, adjusting her position. He twisted her around so that she was standing in a proper fighting stance; her feet perpendicular to each other and knees bent to lower her center of gravity. Her right arm was parallel to the ship’s dock, the sword gripped tightly in her hand. Bellamy was standing in the same position next to her as an example.

  
“Now up! That’s how to block a blow from above, and down like this- good, for below. The same things for the sides. To attack, just thrust or swipe your sword-no, that’s wrong. Just twist your wrist, there you go,” Bellamy kept correcting Clarke’s position and grip over and over again, running through the same simulations and movements until she had them down for the next hour or so.

  
Panting, she wiped the copious amount of sweat from her brow, her muscles trembling. Who knew sword fighting was so intense. She’d sparred with Bellamy again after going through the beginning techniques, and had lasted almost ten times as long before he inevitably beat her.

  
“See? It’s harder than it looks. Now go back to your quarters. I have actual work to do,” Bellamy said, sheathing his sword and strolling away into his captain’s quarters. Clarke just stared after the rude man with an indignant look on her face.

  
“Don’t worry. He’s always like that. You’ll get used to it. Eventually,” A voice laughed from above Clarke. She looked over to see a feminine hand extended out to help her up. She grasped the hand, grateful for the help in getting up. Her injury still stung whenever she moved, and sword fighting wasn’t helping her recovery.

  
“I’m not surprised, honestly. He looks like an ass, walks like an ass, and talks like an ass,” Clarke snarled. The laugh rang out again, and she greeted her helper. An attractive woman who seemed to be a year or so younger than Clarke had her head thrown back in laughter, and Clarke swore the girl looked just like the asshat of a captain.

  
“I’m Octavia, Octavia Blake. Nice to meet you.” The girl, Octavia, said, extending her hand out to shake Clarke’s. She shook the girl’s hand and introduced herself.

  
“Clarke. Are you related to Captain Dickhead by any chance?” She asked.

  
“Yea, Captain Dickhead is my older brother.” Octavia said with a smile. She would’ve apologized for insulting her brother, but he really was a dickhead and she was a pirate now, so manners didn’t matter anymore.

  
“He told me you’re our new healer. That’s good. We’ve needed one for a while,” Octavia chattered, following Clarke down to her room. After a day or so of confusion, Clarke had finally figured out how to get to the deck and to the kitchens from her little cabin, but knew nothing else about the ship.

  
“…one time and that was bad. I never knew fire could do that to a person’s skin. Why are you going this way? Didn’t Bell put you in the West cabin?” Octavia asked.

  
“I guess, but this is the only way I know to get there,” Clarke said with a shrug, stumbling down the hall. She was still getting used to walking on a constantly moving boat, and had not gained her sealegs just yet. Octavia, on the other hand, was balanced perfectly and walked fine on the rolling ship.

  
“You didn’t get a tour? That asshole, I’ll have to talk to him about that. Come on, let me show you around,” Octavia grumbled, linking her arm with Clarke’s and leading her through another part of the ship. Her mental map of the ship developed as Octavia led her on the tour, showing her the first level with the upper deck and helm and captain’s quarters, and the second level; where her room was located as well as the kitchen’s and a few other cabins, as well as the crew’s sleeping quarters- which consisted of a bunch of hammocks and some beds spread out everywhere with a few bins for clothes and other personal items. Clarke was glad she didn’t sleep in that room, not liking the lack of privacy and cleanliness. Although the entire ship wasn’t the cleanest in the world, Clarke’s room was at least organized. Being raised in a castle where every spec of dust and dirt was swept away by a small army of servants.

  
“And under here is the cargo bay. We mainly keep food supplies and weapons ammunitions down here. The gold and treasure is locked away in Bell’s cabin, as well as other secret places. Every crew member has their own stash somewhere,” Octavia said. Clarke’s mind went to the little pocket of cloth filled with enough gold to raise a few families in comfort strapped to her thigh. She really needed to find a better place to put it. During her training, the pocket of gold had almost slid down her leg multiple times, causing Clarke to stumble and get struck by the captain.

“Thanks, Octavia. I think I can manage around now.” Clarke said with a smile.

  
“No problem. Can’t have our healer getting lost now can we?” Octavia replied. Clarke’s heart swelled. Even though she was basically a captive on a pirate ship surrounded by criminals, she felt more at home than she had since her father had died. Octavia was the closest thing to a friend Clarke had had, and she was almost a stranger to Clarke. With a heavy heart, she waved good-bye her new friend and retreated into her cabin after grabbing a hunk of bread and some soup from the kitchen. Clarke sat on her bed, slowly eating her food and staring out the porthole window at the clear blue waters and sky. As the sun started to fall closer to the horizon, the sky burst into a beautiful mixture of reds and oranges and purples. She wished she had some of her art supplies with her so she could capture the relaxing image to keep forever. She bit her lip and stared at her duffel bag lying on the floor next to her bed. She quickly climbed off the mattress, praying to whatever gods there were for a miracle.

  
“AHA! Yes!” Clarke shouted in excitement. She pulled out a box containing some charcoal and pastels wrapped in some paper from within her bag and clutched it to her chest. She would be okay, she had her art supplies, some food, and a beautiful image to draw. She quickly positioned herself on the floor so that she had a perfect view of the sunset. She used the white pastel to sketch out a quick outline and then blocked out some of the colors, slowly adding more detail and complexity as time went on. By the time she had gotten a basic sketch finished, the sun had set and the room was almost pitch black, save for the light of the stars and the small gas lamp She had dragged down from her wall. Her entire body was relaxed and she lied on her stomach so that she could gaze at her work in progress. Adding some more yellow to a section, she started to hum. The tune of an old lullaby her father used to sing to her as a little girl filled the empty room, complimented by the scratching of her fingers against the paper.

Clarke’s door slammed open with a bang, startling the girl and causing her to scatter her pastels to all corners of the room.

  
“What the f- you scared me!” Clarke exclaimed, crawling around to gather her runaway pastels.

  
“Sorry Princess. We need you for- what are you doing?” The Captain asked. He’d barged into her room so suddenly and didn’t even care that he disturbed her peace. Clarke rolled her eyes and glared at the captain in her doorway.

  
“You barged in so rudely and made me mess up my pastels. But what’s going on?” Clarke asked, changing the subject away from her own superficial troubles at the serious look in Bellamy’s eyes. Bellamy glanced over at her drawing, which was still on the floor, and raised an eyebrow in appreciation.

“Come on, we’ve got an injury,” He said, turning away and starting to walk away. She jumped up, grabbed her med kit and rushed after the captain, firing out questions.

“What happened? Where are they? Is it bad? Where is the wound? Could there have been poison involved? Knife or bullet?” Clarke asked, giving the man no time to respond.

“Just come on already. You’ll see.” Bellamy said stiffly. The blonde huffed, but stayed quiet as he walked through the depths of the ship.

“We sent some of the crew out to scope out a prison camp. We have people there, and we’re going to get em out soon. Only one came back, and he’s pretty fucked up right now. I need you to do all you can so he doesn’t die, at least not yet.” Bellamy explained quietly. Clarke’s eyebrows tied together, a memory of the castle pushing to the surface. She shoved it back down and focused on the task at hand. No time to think about the prison camps true purposes.

“Why are we going down? Isn’t he on the deck?” She asked after noticing that Bellamy was leading her down deeper into the ship towards the cargo bay.

“We had to get him away from everyone,” He replied simply, as if it was enough of an explanation. Scowling, Clarke quickened her pace. Bellamy was taller and had longer legs, already giving him an advantage, but now he was practically running and Clarke had trouble keeping up.

“Open up! It’s me,” Bellamy called. He banged on one of the doors that led into the cargo bay impatiently. The door swung open just wide enough for the two of them to slid in individually, then slammed closed.

“Cap, he ain’t doing so good,” A man said, wringing his hands together nervously. Clarke looked around the dark room, squinting to try and see her patient. Her first real patient. Sudden nervous butterflies filled her stomach and her grip tightened on the med kit in her arms.

“Where is he?” Clarke asked. She took a deep breath and focused her mind on the task at hand. She had a life to save. The teachings of her Master came back to her, helping her block out unnecessary feelings and adopt a healer’s professionalism.

“O-over there.” The man who’d opened the door stuttered, pointing to a cot on the floor in the middle of the room. The few people in the room, Clarke assumed they were the people who’d launched the mission, avoided the cot. Her eyes narrowed as she slowly approached the cot. As she drew closer, she could hear sparse, wet breathing coming from the person on the cot. She knelt down next to the patient, her heart sinking in her chest.  
The man on the cot was covered in burns, and his eyes were blank and milky. Some of his bones were peeking out of the burned masses of flesh and skin encasing his entire body. The clothes he had been wearing were fused with his skin, and wet tears filled his blind eyes. His chest shuddered as he struggled to breath. Clarke brushed some of his hair off of his face.

“Can, can you do anything?” Bellamy asked. He’d crouched down next to Clarke, and his eyes searched her face for a sign of hope, finding none.

“W-we were on the i-island about to leave w-when it appeared. It was a y-yellow f-fog, and it k-killed Thomas before we realized it was a-acid. W-we hid, but Atom was s-still…” A girl muttered, curled into the fetal position on the floor.

“…k-ki…” A weak voice cracked. Clarke quickly hunched over the man, Atom, on the cot to try and hear what he was saying. Bellamy moved over across from Clarke so that he was kneeling on the other side of Atom and leaned in to hear too.  
“K-ki-ll,” Atom stammered. She grabbed his hand gently, understanding what he was asking already.  
“What is it?” Bellamy implored.  
“…ki-ll m-m-ee,” Atom choked out, tears falling from his blind eyes. Bellamy jerked away in shock, his mouth hanging open. Clarke gazed at the captain in sympathy, knowing it was a difficult choice. Bellamy pulled out a small knife from his waist, his grip shaky. He looked at Clarke, his eyes filled with pain and indecision. She just stared at him softly. She took the knife from his shaking hands and started humming. It was the tune to the lullaby her father sang to her as a little girl. She hummed softly, the soothing melody causing Atom to relax. Clarke kept humming as she placed the knife on Atom’s neck, right next to his jugular. She took a deep breath and continued to hum, then sunk the knife in his neck. She squeezed his hand as Atom shook and gurgled for a minute. His body slowly grew lifeless, the choking sounds of his breathing died away as Atom died.

Bellamy stared at the healer in shock. She was still humming, and tears filled her eyes. She had done what he could not- kill. Some newfound respect rose within the captain as he realized how strong the little princess was already and how much stronger she could become.

 

After Clarke returned to her room, she stared in the dark at the sunset she had drawn earlier, her heart aching. She bent down and picked up the scattered pastels, ignoring how much her hands shook. The image of Atom’s lifeless body still lying on the floor stuck in her mind. Bellamy had taken the knife from her hands, giving her a thankful look and ordered some of the crew to wrap up his body and take it to the upper deck for a funeral.  
Before the mourning crew could, however, Octavia had burst into the room. She saw Atom’s body and immediately ran over and knelt next to his body, placing her head on his scarred chest to listen for a heartbeat. Clarke watched the tears fill Octavia’s eyes as she realized he was gone. Octavia’s lower lip quivered and she started sobbing. She clutched his body and cried out for a lost love taken too soon. Bellamy reached out and wrapped himself around his sister, muttering comforts into her ear. Octavia had calmed enough to hear what had happened to Atom a few minutes later, and even though Clarke had killed her lover’s life, Octavia stood up and solemnly pulled the shaken blonde into a hug, and thanked her for ending his suffering. Clarke was shocked. Octavia had been one of the people to lift Atom’s body up in the air and bring him to the deck, tears streaming down her face as she did.  
Clarke eventually stopped reaching for the art supplies and just sat on the floor against the foot of her bed. She looked at the soft blue pastel, and it suddenly blurred and changed into a bloody knife. Clarke yelped and dropped the pastel as if it were a burning hot metal pan. Clarke lowered her face in her hands and took deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out. Her Master had prepared her for this. For when she would take a life. When she would become a killer.  
“He was in so much pain, so much. And I helped him. He isn’t suffering anymore.” Clarke muttered to herself until she calmed down. She brushed the blonde strands out of her face and finished picking up the pastels and placed them back in her bag and set the bag between the mattress and the wooden frame underneath her bed for safe keeping. She picked up the drawing and placed it on top of the small cabinet in the corner of her room, after quickly scribbling a note in the corner.  
“Clarke. Everyone’s awake. We’re ready.” Bellamy called through her door. Clarke greeted the captain with a small sad smile. She followed him up and out on the deck, where the crew was gathered around Atom’s body. Some were crying, others barely holding back tears, or comforting those around them. Octavia stood with the crew who had gone on the mission with Atom, each holding a burning torch. In the dark cool night, the torches provided barely enough light and warmth for the grieving crew, making them huddle closer together to keep warm and provide the needed human comfort in the loss of a friend. Clarke stayed close to the back, letting Bellamy walk up to the front of the crowd, which parted for him like a river around a stone.  
Bellamy’s shoulders were hunched and his face expressing the sorrow of every person standing on the deck. He stood up tall and straightened his posture, looking through the crowd.  
“I’m sure all of you are wondering why I got you up so late, and what happened. Today we lost one of our own. Today we lost a friend. As I’m sure you all know, some of our people are trapped in a prison camp not too far from where we are now. Atom was part of a scouting mission to gain information about the camp so we can finally bring our people home.” Bellamy paused, and looked over at Atom’s body with a grievous sigh.  
“He didn’t make it. During the mission, he was injured by some strange fog. Atom fought to free our enslaved crew, our enslaved friends. And for that, I cannot thank him enough for his sacrifice. His death helped bring us critical information about the island, about the camp. With his sacrifice, we can- we will, save our people. Today we send off Atom to sail the mighty seas forever. He will be remembered, and he will be missed.” Bellamy concluded. He nodded to one of the torch bearers, and they each grabbed a hold of the cot Atom was on and carried it to the railing. They opened up a hatch on the side of the ship so that there was a space for Atom to fall from the ship. Octavia then walked over with her head held high and dropped her torch onto the sheet covering his marred body. When the flames spread along enough of the cloth, Octavia kicked the cot off of the ship, sending Atom into the sea with a fiery sendoff.  
“May we meet again!” Octavia cried.  
“May we meet again!” The rest of the crew bellowed.  
“Sleep in tomorrow. We’ll have a day of mourning, and then back to work! Now go to sleep!” Bellamy ordered. The crew dispersed slowly, most walking up to give Octavia words of comfort or hugs. Clarke slowly faded into the background and she crept away from the people and quietly returned to her cabin for a night of restless nightmares.

 

Clarke got up and dressed a little before dawn, after tossing and turning all night. The memories of the night before kept her up, and she barely got any sleep. She stumbled into the empty kitchen and grabbed a roll of bread to nibble on. She slowly explored the ship for an hour or so while the rest of the crew slept. Eventually she found herself back in the cargo bay, staring at the blood staining the dark wood. She silently left the bay and found herself on the upper deck. Clarke leaned on the railing and stared out at the quiet sea, the rising sun shining against the blue waters and lighting up the sky in a rainbow of color. Clarke closed her eyes and breathed in the clear sea air, the rocking of the ship and sounds of the waves lulling her into unconsciousness.

Bellamy hadn’t slept a wink last night, and he decided to wake up the Princess a little early for training. He needed to get this nervous energy out of his system somehow, and fighting seemed like the perfect way to clear his mind. He grabbed a roll and an apple from the kitchen and headed for Clarke’s cabin, munching on his breakfast. He knocked on the door, and when silence answered, he barged in.  
“Rise and shine Princess! Time for-“ Bellamy froze when he saw the undisturbed empty bed, and empty room. He looked around a bit, and wondered where on earth the crazy blonde could be. His gaze landed on the colorful drawing she had been working on the night before, and he grabbed it off the cabinet for a closer look. The drawing itself was beautiful, and captured the sunset on the sea perfectly. Bellamy wondered where she learned to draw like this, the mystery of the rich girl growing bigger. He almost dropped the paper, however, when he saw the small inscription in the corner.

Dedicated to Atom, a brave soul.  
May we meet again.

Bellamy carefully placed the drawing back on the cabinet and quietly left the room. He’d seen Clarke at the funeral last night, and knew she didn’t respond in the chant with the rest of the crew. At first he’d thought she didn’t understand their Kingdom’s funeral customs, but she obviously did. The captain grumbled, and swore he would beat her sorry ass during training. He walked up onto the deck, and rolled his eyes at the sight before him. The foolish Princess had fallen asleep on the deck. She was slumped against the ship’s railing, as if she had come out here for some air and fallen asleep against the railing for no good reason. Her blonde hair shone in the sunlight, and the image made quite the sight. Bellamy grinned devilishly and cracked his knuckles, ready to give the slumbering girl a very rude awakening.

 

Clarke hadn’t realized she’d actually fallen asleep until she woke up, feeling quite strange. She slowly opened her eyes, her head pounding and her ankles ached for some reason. She looked around, or rather down at the blue ocean beneath her head. Clarke blinked. She was swaying back and forth, upside down, tied by her ankles above the fucking middle of the ocean.

“Bellamy! I’m gonna fucking kill you, you bastard!” Clarke screamed angrily. She heard laughter from her right, and looked over to see the captain laughing smugly on the deck of the ship. He’d somehow been able to tie her up by her ankles and swing her up on the mast and out over the water. It wasn’t the fact that she was strung up upside down that frightened Clarke, it was the fact that she was hanging by a literal thread over the middle of the ocean, and that she couldn’t swim. She knew it was pathetic for a pirate to not be able to swim, but how was Clarke to know she would sail the seas as a pirate one day, a Princess didn’t need to know how to swim.

There was no way on earth Clarke was going to admit her lack of skill to the smug captain, however. She would rather drown, which was looking to be likely at this point.

“This is why you don’t fall asleep in strange places, Princess. You never know what’ll happen.” The captain said with a shrug and a smile from on the deck. Clarke scowled and started to swing her body back and forth to gain momentum. She would escape this situation and kick the captain right in the balls, if he even had any. Clarke couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at the thought of the smug Captain in a ball on the floor with tears in his eyes as he clutched his most precious cargo.

“What the hell are you laughing at?” Bellamy asked.

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been tied up with a strange man.” Clarke said sarcastically, smiling when the Captain’s mouth twitched in amusement. She’d gained enough momentum to try and swing up and grab either the rope or the wooden mast. Right as she was about to swing up and grab it, her stitches burst open and she cried out in pain.

Clarke muttered curses and gritted her teeth to fight the urge to scream. Bellamy looked at her questioningly, but when he saw the blood staining her shirt, he understood.

“Shit.” He said simply. He disappeared from Clarke’s field of vision, to try and pull her in she assumed, but Clarke took a deep breath and swung up to grab the mast through the pain. She clung to the wood for dear life, panting and sweaty. She hung on as Bellamy pulled the mast over above the deck, and then she let go and fell onto the deck clumsily, but on her own two feet.

“You alright? Sorry, I forgot about it.” Bellamy apologized. He slumped down to swing Clarke’s arm over his shoulders to support her weight and helped her limp over to a barrel she could sit on. Clarke hissed and lifted up her shirt to inspect the damage. It wasn’t too bad, her stitches had just torn a little and the blood was only from some superficial cuts.

“It’s alright, it’s not that bad. Can you go grab my med-kit?” Clarke asked calmly. The captain obeyed, albeit reluctantly, and swiftly returned with the sac. Clarke opened it up and grabbed out a newly sterile needle she’d cleaned the other day and some thread. She lifted up her shirt and stuffed the end into her mouth to keep it out of the way. She had just thread the needle and begun to stick it in the wound when Bellamy cried out.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Don’t you need painkillers or something sterile?” He asked aghast. Clarke just stared at him, the needle half stuck in her side.

“I’shm jusht goin shto redo muy shtitshes.” Clarke grumbled out around the cloth in her mouth.

“You can’t just stitch yourself up like it’s nothing! Doesn’t it hurt?” Bellamy asked exasperated. Clarke shrugged, then continued to redo her stitches. Bellamy watched nervously, and paced around the deck tensely. Clarke tied off the string and grabbed some gauze from her bag and started to wrap it around her torso to make it more secure.

“It’s not a big deal. Not like it’s the first time.” Clarke said when she finished. The captain just stared at her, his expression unreadable.

“What have you had to live through?” He asked softly. Clarke stiffened, memories she’d tried to forget pushing up to the front of her mind. She swallowed the lump in her throat.

“What I had to, so I could survive.” She replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! School returning restricted my writing time, but I have a long chapter to make up for it! Atom died, cries, but that was a small plot point, we'll be getting to the fun stuff soon. *evil laughter*  
> I'm not all that great at death scenes, so tell me how I did in the comments! I hope y'all liked this chapter and that it was as good as the first!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I've been super busy with art homework and school. *cries of sleepless anguish* But here's the next chapter, and I hope you like it! Reviews are welcome! I live off of kudos and comments.  
> *as always, I do not own The 100*

Bellamy had said something about cancelling training, then helped Clarke to her cabin despite her many protests and disappeared. Clarke sighed and put her med kit back on the cabinet. She looked at the drawing on the cabinet and sighed again. Clarke groaned and rubbed her torso, the throbbing pain still pulsing through her body. She reached under her mattress and grabbed the bag of herbs she’d hidden there. Clarke dug out the painkiller and tore off a few leaves before returning the bag to its hiding place. Clarke quickly, well as fast as she could, walked to the kitchen to find something to boil some water in, instinctively bringing her sketch pad and pencils with her. Clarke grabbed a pot and poured some water in it, then stuck it in the fire pit to heat up.  
She confessed, making a fire was harder than it looked, but after a few tries she figured it out. While she waited, Clarke started to chop up and grind the leaves. When the water was boiling, Clarke poured it into a mug and tossed in the crushed leaves, making a makeshift tea. She stirred the water with her finger, wincing at the heat, and then gulped down the concoction. Her face scrunched up as the nasty bitter tasting liquid passed down her through her throat. Clarke shuddered and stuck her tongue out and made a disgusted noise.

  
“That doesn’t look appetizing.” An amused voice called. Clarke turned around, startled, but relaxed when she saw Octavia propped up against the threshold. Clarke could tell that Octavia had spent her night crying and not sleeping, based on the redness of her eyes and bleary gaze.

“It’s medicine. It’s not supposed to taste good, that’s a requirement.” Clarke muttered wryly, recalling all the herbs and concoctions her Master had made her drink to understand their effects and what she was putting her patients through. The corner of Octavia’s mouth twitched up, but the girl’s eyes displayed her true mournful feelings. Clarke fought the urge to draw the beautifully sorrowful profile Octavia made as she leaned against the wooden threshold. It was that moment when she noticed that she’d brought her sketching supplies with her, and Clarke mentally slapped herself. She knew that the little booklet could blow her cover, since it was filled with sketches of the palace and even royals and nobles. For some reason, Clarke wasn’t all that worried. Octavia was one of her closest friends, ever, even though Clarke had only known the girl for a few days.

“Hey Octavia, do you mind if I ask a question?” Clarke asked hesitantly. She wanted to know more about the crew and their current rescue mission, but didn’t want to ask the obnoxious Captain, who would probably just laugh her questions off and say she didn’t need to know.

“Sure, shoot.” Octavia said, pushing herself off the wall and sitting down next to Clarke on the bench.

“Where’s the captured crew being held? And how long have they been there? Do you know if the Captain is going to rescue them soon?” Clarke asked, rapid fire style.

“Woah, woah, woah. One at a time.” Octavia said. Clarke smiled apologetically and waited for the girl to respond.

“What I do know, is that about a year ago, some of the crew were taken on a job and imprisoned in a prison camp. It took us forever to find out which one, but we found out they’re being held at Washington Camp. Bell doesn’t share a lot about this- since he treats me like a baby, the bastard, but I do know that in a couple of weeks we’re going to be right next to the island the camp is on, and that Bell is planning on launching a rescue mission.” Octavia explained.  
Clarke breathed a sigh of relief. They were at Washington, that wasn’t a bad camp to be at, compared to what Clarke had seen and been through. Some of the scars on Clarke’s back ached just thinking about what had happened in one camp she “visited.”

Right after her father died, Clarke had gone through a “rebellious phase,” which included digging through some files and information she shouldn’t have. As a result, she’d went undercover at a camp she had read about, thinking she was such a badass and would bring justice to her father’s death. How wrong she was. The camp she decided to check into was Walden, and it was absolute hell. For the year she’d spent in that hellhole, she endured endless torture. Walden, at that time, was a camp where the wardens perfected torture techniques, and tested gruesome weapons for wartimes. Until her mother had finally been able to free Clarke from Walden, she’d learned the truth about the kingdom she would inherit and decided to run away and find a way to topple the corrupt system.

“Thank God. They’re only at Washington, that’s a baby compared to some of the camps.” Clarke breathed. Octavia gave her a strange look, and raised her eyebrow questioningly. Crumbling under the pressure of one single eyebrow the girl possessed, Clarke spilled her thoughts.

“I’ve sorta, been in Washington? So I know what it looks like and how it runs. It’s a long story,” Clarke explained quickly. She had actually visited Washington as a Princess inspecting what she believed to be the generic punishment system she would run when she became Queen, boy was she wrong.

“What the hell? You’ve been in a prison camp?” Octavia shouted. Clarke shushed the girl, and looked around to make sure no one was close enough to hear.

“Not just one, but that’s a story for another time. I think I can help you guys get your people out of there.” Clarke said quietly.

 

“Bellamy! You better get your ass out here!” Octavia screamed, pounding on the door to the Captain’s quarters, her hands on her hips. Clarke looked around cautiously, not wanting to disturb the rest of the crew. It was still relatively early, even if Clarke had taken an impromptu nap. Right as Octavia was about to begin her loud onslaught again, the door swung open to reveal a very disgruntled Bellamy. He glared down at his sister and crossed his arms.

“What on earth do you want? I should float you for making so much racket on a mourning day.” Bellamy growled.

“It’s important, move.” Octavia said stubbornly. She pushed against Bellamy’s- bare, chest and pulled Clarke into the cabin with her. Clarke tried to keep her gaze away from Bellamy’s muscular torso, but she had to admit that although the Captain was a total ass on the inside, he was pretty hot on the outside.

“Like what you see, Princess?” Bellamy teased as he pulled on a shirt.

“Eh, I’ve seen better. Looks like you’re getting a bit flabby, oh Mighty Strong Captain.” Clarke shot back. Bellamy just glared at her and turned to his sister.

“What’s this about, O?” He asked. Clarke looked around the cabin, noting that it was surprisingly sparse and neat. She’d expected a pigsty based on what she had seen of the Captain so far. There was a small bed and some cabinets for storage littered around the room. A large desk covered in papers and maps took up most of the floor space, and Clarke gravitated towards it out of curiosity.

“Clarke here has been to Washington.” Octavia said smugly. The captain’s eyes widened and he looked at Clarke in shock.

“You were in a prison camp? You?” He asked in astonishment. Clarke nodded, not wanting to tell him that she’d been to the worst of them and survived.

“I know the inside and outside like the back of my hand. I can get us in, and get your people out.” She said. Bellamy nodded pensively and leaned his arms against the desk, looking over plans.

“Tell me.” He said simply.  
For the next hour, Clarke sketched out the floor plans and guard rotations, explaining how the scheduling worked and how they could sneak in and out.

“Washington is the pretty boy of the Camps, all kinds of nobles and Royal Ambassadors go there to make sure Arc isn’t up to no good. Because of this, the prisoners are decently cared for, although it is definitely not a five star inn. Your people should be mostly alright, except for some malnutrition and maybe some sicknesses. The wardens only punish the really mischievous and rebellious ones with a few lashes or a beating.” Clarke explained. Bellamy and Octavia exchanged a silent conversation, and Clarke sighed.

“I’m guessing that your people are the rebellious ones.” Bellamy nodded and his face lit up with a proud smile.

“We’ve got five people in there, Jess, Monroe, James, Finn, and Raven. Raven’s definitely going to be a bit beat up.” He said. Clarke nodded and continued to formulate a plan with him, pointing to the general areas she guessed some of the prisoners would be based on how they would behave.

“Alright, now how are you gonna get us in, Princess?” Bellamy asked, giving her a challenging look. She glanced nervously at Octavia, not sure if she wanted to reveal herself just yet.

“I’m technically a noble, and I should be able to get us in pretty easily. I’ll just need the proper…equipment.” Clarke murmured. Bellamy’s eyebrows rose, and Octavia squealed.

“I knew it! There’s no way you were a common thief! What house are you from? What’s it like being a noble?” Octavia asked excitedly. Clarke knew she wasn’t lying, just understating the truth a bit.

“Maybe I should start calling you milady.” The Captain teased.

“Don’t call me anything! I have a name.” Clarke spat. Both the Blake siblings quieted at her outburst.

“Sorry, it’s a long story.” Clarke groaned, rubbing her temple.

“I’m starting to get the feeling that it always is with you.” Bellamy muttered to himself. She ignored his comment, and made sure he understood the plan so far.

“So what exactly do you need?” Octavia asked eventually.

“I’ll need the fanciest and nicest dress you guys have, and some very expensive jewelry.” Clarke directed the last part to the captain, knowing that he would have a stash of stolen jewels hidden away somewhere. Bellamy stared at her blankly for a few minutes.

“You’re telling me. To get my prized jewels. And just, let you borrow them?” He exclaimed. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Obviously. Chop chop, if you want to rescue your crew.” She replied. Bellamy gave her a stubborn look before sighing and banging his head down on the desktop.

“I’ll get your damn jewels. But you better give em back, and I’ll be with you while your wearing them. Plus, you are definitely not battle ready if this comes to a fight.” Bellamy said, running his hand through his hair.

“I’m not some spoiled, useless brat. I know what I’m doing.” Clarke spat.

“I’m not saying that, your highness, I’m saying that even though I’m a pirate, I’m not going to let someone- noble or not, die while trying to help me.” Bellamy said through gritted teeth. Octavia smiled, looking between Clarke and the Captain expectantly. Clarke blushed, and looked down at the plans, clearing her throat.

“Well, then you better teach me how to fight then. Cause I do not plan on dying anytime soon.” Clarke muttered in reply.

 

“So, we really do have a princess on board. Looks like my little name wasn’t that far off,” Bellamy grunted as he parried a left swipe of Clarke’s sword. Panting, Clarke quickly stepped out of range of Bellamy’s next attack and the two danced around each other for a minute.

“I’m not even that important in the grand scheme of things. Just a third born daughter of a low ranking family.” Clarke lied. She was having a hard time keeping up with the Captain’s brutal training regime, and yet he had barely broken a sweat.

“Still, a noble is a noble.” Bellamy smirked. Clarke rolled her eyes and swiftly spun to avoid the slash of his sword, and quickly ducked, feinting a swipe to his legs and then lunging upwards and thrusting the sword behind Bellamy’s sword arm and against his throat.

“Better watch out, Captain.” Clarke said challengingly. Bellamy just lifted an eyebrow, then with a flick of his wrist sent Clarke’s sword spiraling out of her hand and onto the deck a few feet away.

“Don’t hesitate, Princess. When the time comes, do what you have to do.” The captain said darkly. Clarke just gritted her teeth and nodded, leaning against one of the main mast posts and slowly lowering herself onto the deck to sit and rest. After going over the plan with Miller and Murphy, the first and second officers of Bellamy’s crew, the captain had dragged her back to her room to rest for the day. Clarke only agreed if Bellamy agreed to begin his training anew the next morning. Despite Clarke’s injury, she agreed to be beat around in order to improve in the short two weeks before landing on Washington Island.  
Bellamy slumped down next to Clarke and handed her a jug of water. She gladly accepted it and drank deeply. The cool water refreshed Clarke’s exhausted mind and muscles.

“You are getting better. Not by much, but still.” Bellamy commented.

“Gee, thanks.” Clarke replied sarcastically. She took a few deep breaths and groaned.

“I never knew my body could be so sore, and that’s saying something. One time, I had to dig myself out of a collapsed mine just to survive. That was really rough, and even-“ Clarke clamped her mouth shut. Unknowingly, she had begun to spill about one of her trials in Walden. Clarke quickly handed the water jug back to the curious captain and stood up.

“Well, let’s get back to it.” She said in an attempt to change the topic of conversation. She avoided looking at Bellamy and walked over to her fallen sword, picking it up and twiddling with the handle anxiously.

“I don’t know how a noble got into a prison camp, but whatever happened to you, I can promise will never happen again. Just trust me.” Bellamy said gently. He wrapped his hands around Clarke’s shaking ones and held them for a minute in his warm grasp, then shifted her fingers into the proper hold for fighting.

“Let’s get back to it.” He said with a cough. Clarke smiled in thanks, and the two attacked each other again.

“Ughh. I am so sore…why me?” Clarke groaned. It was the evening of her third day of hardcore training. Her injury was healing nicely, even though it still ached and caused her more pain than Clarke would like. But Clarke didn’t have time for the stupid hole in her stomach. She had a kingdom to change.

“I gotta tell you, I feel for you, Clarke. I don’t think I’ve seen anyone work as hard as you have these past few days.” Octavia mumbled through the roll in her mouth. Both Clarke and Octavia were sitting next to each other out on the deck eating their dinner rations. Octavia had helped Clarke train too, teaching her more sneaky techniques and dirty tricks to use on her opponents rather than the honorable ones Bellamy taught Clarke. Clarke found her current situation amusing, since the suave pirate Captain was trying to make her into an honorable fighter while his little sister was teaching her how to fight like anyone else trying to survive.

“Yea, but not enough. I have to get better now.” Clarke huffed.

“Slow down, girl. It’s not like you don’t have time. All you gotta do is get us into the camp and then get out. That’s it. It’s not like you’re going to be in a war any time soon.” Octavia laughed. Clarke forced a smile, thinking how wrong the girl was. Clarke tore a chunk off of her stale, bland jerky and sighed.

“What, this not a five star dinner? Well I’m so sorry my lady, we are pirates after all.” Octavia chuckled, thinking Clarke didn’t like her rations.

“This is better than no food at all.” Clarke replied softly. Her mind wandered back to her year at Walden, and the man who had helped her survive. Clarke forced the memories out of her mind, wondering why she kept thinking of that year and that man. He was dead to her. That’s all that mattered.

“Oh! I almost forgot to tell you! Earlier today, while you were busy, I actually went into the armory, and guess what I found? It was that bastard…” Octavia rambled on about some drama happening on the ship, and Clarke relaxed, nodding and making aghast noises every so often to keep the girl satisfied.

“Clarke! Come here.” A deep voice called. Clarke looked up to see the Captain standing outside his quarters and gesturing for her to join him. Clarke shook her head and raised her food as if to say: I’m eating. Leave me alone. Bellamy just rolled his eyes and glared at her. He raised an eyebrow in reply, and Clarke sighed.

“…but then, they grabbed-hmm?” Octavia looked up, stopping in the middle of her story to give Clarke a questioning look.

“The-Oh-Great-And-Powerful Captain is trying to starve me and keep me busy.” Clarke snarled. Octavia looked between her brother and Clarke, a smile on her face. Clarke strolled over to where Bellamy was waiting, taking her own sweet time to look around the deck as if it was her first time ever on a ship and eat her food slowly.

“Get over here, god dammit.” Bellamy growled, stomping into his cabin angrily. Smiling to herself, the princess strode into his cabin, expectant curiosity clear on her face.

“I’ve got those jewels you need.” Bellamy said quietly, after checking around to make sure nobody was listening in or peeking. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“Really? That’s what you brought me in here for?” She scoffed. Bellamy just curled his lip and brought out a velvet bag from his coat, and Clarke was starting to think his coat was endless on the inside. He untied the bag and emptied the contents onto his desk. Clarke raised one eyebrow, impressed at the scope of his stash. She brushed aside some emeralds and a few uncut rubies, and grabbed a diamond necklace on a gold chain. The necklace was simple, but elegant. A large diamond was the centerpiece of the necklace, and smaller diamonds and interlocking gold chain as well as some other precious stones spread around it like a web around a spider.

“Well? Pretty good, right?” Bellamy asked smugly. Clarke glanced at him, then chuckled to herself, thinking back to the royal crown jewels locked away in her palace vault, or even lying on her dresser. The rings and bracelets she had carelessly littered across her vanity in her youth were much more valuable than the captains entire stash combined.

“It’ll do.” She said, running her hand through her hair anxiously.

“What do you mean, ‘it’ll do’? These jewels were fucking hard to come by, and each could buy a castle!” Bellamy exclaimed. Sighing, the blonde separated the necklace and a bracelet along with a few more scattered jewels into one pile and shoved the rest back into the velvet bag.

“These are the only ones that’ll work.” Clarke said as she handed the bag back to the captain. Stunned, the man took the bag wordlessly and slipped it back into his coat.

“I can use these little jewels as a hairpiece and try to make them into a crown of some sorts. But I don’t know… what if they aren’t enough?” Clarke rambled. The captain sat down in his large ornate chair and rubbed his chin, watching as the girl across from him grabbed a spare paper and a pencil and started to draw out a design for the smaller jewels. Her teeth caught her lower lip, worrying at the pink flesh. Bellamy forced his gaze away from Clarke’s lips and at the girl’s face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration, and she held some of her hair away from her face, not quite pulling back all the strands. Bellamy resisted the urge to lean over and brush the golden strands out of her face.

“…just a crown, or a tiara? I don’t…how would I…just need something…” Clarke mumbled to herself, looking between the spare jewels and her outlines.

“Why would a noble need a crown?” Bellamy asked darkly. Clarke froze, realizing her mistake. She tried to calm her breathing and gulped.

“Just to emphasize my importance.” She lied smoothly. The captain held her gaze, his stare unreadable and his brown eyes dark and threatening.

“Did I ever tell you about what happened when a member of my crew lied to me? To my face? No? Well, it’s a great story. You see, this particular scumbag tried to take more than his share of a deal. Now, I’m a greedy bastard, but I’m a fair greedy bastard. I didn’t take too kindly to his theft, but I’m sure the fishes and the sharks sure did enjoy him after I tossed him overboard with a cannon strapped to his back.” The captain said threateningly. He got up as he spoke and started moving towards Clarke. She stood her ground, and resisted the urge to run from the towering frame of the captain.

“An honorable pirate? I’ve never heard of one.” Clarke stuttered.

“Very funny. I don’t like it when a member of my crew lies to my face, Princess.” Bellamy scowled. He was toe to toe with her now, and Clarke gulped. She could see how he had become such a successful Captain. She refused to be too intimidated, however, and raised an eyebrow challengingly.

“Like it or not, Captain, I’m only on your ship for myself. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t seized that ship I was on, so it’s not like I had a huge choice. Sure, everyone here is amazing and I will get your people out of that camp, but only for my own reasons. You are just going to have to trust that my own reasons are as powerful as you feelings for your crew.” Clarke snarled. She held his gaze for a few more tense seconds, then walked away and slammed his door behind her.

Octavia quickly left the group she was chatting with and jogged over to Clarke.

“So, what did my brother want?” She asked cheerfully. Clarke scoffed and shook her head, muttering an answer. Octavia stared at the somber blonde as she disappeared below deck with a worried look.

“Bellamy, what the hell did you say to Clarke?” Octavia yelled after storming into her brother’s cabin. Bellamy was seated at his desk with his head in his hands, and he lifted his head to gaze at his sister.

“The truth, which she apparently isn’t willing to share.” He growled. His dark eyes glittered dangerously and Octavia tensed. She knew what happened when Bellamy made that face; it meant he was serious and would find out what he wanted to know eventually, no matter the cost.

“Bell, you’ve gotta admit that she has a right to keep secrets from us. I mean, we did technically steal her along with the rest of that treasure.” Octavia said reassuringly. She sat on the bench across from her brother’s desk and leaned forward to grab his hand. She smiled gently. Bellamy just looked at his sister, and sighed in defeat. He knew she was right, but that didn’t make him any happier.

“O, you didn’t see the look on her face. She knows what it is like in one of those camps, and not a ‘nice’ one like Washington. She’s not just some noble.” Octavia tilted her head thoughtfully and opened her mouth to speak, but closed it again.

“I think that Clarke has had a bad and painful past, like us. She’ll tell us when she’s ready, or at least she’ll tell me.” Octavia said after a pause. Bellamy blinked.

“What makes you think she won’t tell her captain?” He asked blankly.

“Come on, Bell, it’s not like you’re the most welcoming of people! The first thing you did when she got here was beat her up, and you haven’t even officially welcomed her here! Half the crew doesn’t even know who she is.” Octavia laughed. She knew her brother was dense, but still, this was a new level of thick-headedness.

Bellamy zoned out, as if he were trying to remember when he actually did, rather if, welcome Clarke to the crew. He hated it when his sister was right, she would never shut up about it now. Octavia laughed again and rose from the bench to leave, looking back at her brother one last time.

“I expect something later on, Bell.” She said arrogantly as she strode out his door. Bellamy sat back in his chair, still trying to think of a time when he actually did something remotely welcoming for his newest crewmember.

 

 

Clarke stumbled into her room with a curse. Why did she have to be thinking about Walden? Or about him? Her legs shook and she slid down her door and curled her knees up against her chest. Flashbacks of her year in hell flittered across her mind, and Clarke tried not to scream, and instead quick panicked breaths were the only sound she emitted.

_“Daddy? I had a bad dream. Is it alright if-“ A young girl, fresh into her fifteenth year, asked softly as she pushed open the large door that lead into her fathers room._

_“Clarke? Sweetie, you have to go! Now!” Her father cried. Clarke stepped into the room, her lip trembling._

_“W-why? I just wanted to-“ She stuttered, crying out as her father grabbed her arm and pulled her into a tight hug. Clarke’s nose poked into her father’s chest, a feat she had been proud of earlier. She was going to be as tall as him one day and rule the kingdom like he did._

_“It’s too late now. I love you so much baby girl. Remember that okay? Now quickly. Hide here and stay quiet.” The man dragged his daughter over to the far wall by his dresser and pressed something the girl couldn’t see. She gasped as a section of the wall slid away to reveal a crawlspace big enough for her to hide in._

_“Daddy, what’s happening?” She asked frightfully. Her father pushed her into the crawlspace and gently slid the door closed, leaving just a crack for some light._

_“Daddy wants you to be strong. Something is going to happen, and I need you to stay here and be quiet, no matter what. Be strong for me, my little princess.” He said, holding his hand against the crack, as if reaching for his daughter one last time. Clarke nodded, curling up in the dark crawlspace._

_“I’ll be strong.” She whispered. She saw a glimpse of her father’s face, and was shocked to see his eyes filled with tears. She had never seen him cry before._

_“I’ll be strong. I’ll be strong.” The girl chanted softly, her voice trembling. All she wanted to do was run out and hug her father, to feel safe in his arms once again. The girl fell silent as the sound of glass breaking hit her ears. She cringed at the loud sound and pressed her face against the crack in an attempt to see what was happening._

_“Sorry about this, I really am.” A familiar voice said. Clarke saw her father standing in the middle of the room, the light of the moon shining on him through the broken window. A dark figure approached him, and the girl wanted to scream for her father to run away from the bad man._

_“We both know that isn’t true.” The girl’s father said. The figure laughed and the girl’s eyes widened as she saw him draw a blade from within his cloak. She held her hand against her mouth to keep from screaming. The man lunged forward and the blade struck her father’s heart, and the girl’s as well. Silent tears fell from her eyes as she saw her father fall to the ground lifelessly, and the figure stabbed his body again and again and again and again._

_“I will be strong. I will be strong. I will be strong.” The girl chanted in her mind. Even with her vision clouded by tears, she could still see the red staining the blade and the floor. The man in the cloak sighed, and wiped his blade on the comforter of her father’s bed. He left the same way he came, and Clarke cried silently in the dark crawlspace for a few minutes. After she was sure the assassin was gone, she rushed out of her hiding place and ran to her father’s side._

_“No no no no no! Daddy! No! You can’t leave me! Don’t leave me alone! I don’t want to be alone again!” Clarke sobbed, clutching her father’s robes in her hands. She shook his lifeless body, as if it would bring him back to life. Her training with the Healer made her sure that he was most definitely dead, but her heart refused to accept it. Her hand crumpled something hard inside his robe, and the girl drew it out with shaking hands. A thick envelope fell out of one of the robe’s inner pockets, and Clarke saw her name written in her father’s handwriting on the envelope. She tore it open hastily and a golden locket fell out onto her hand. The girl looked at the locket, recognizing it as her father’s. The family locket with the royal crest engraved on it. She clutched the charm to her chest and pulled out a letter._

_“My Dearest Clarke,_

_I wish I didn’t have to leave you so soon, but something has happened. I want you to take this locket, since it is yours now. You are now the heir and true ruler of Arc Kingdom. I know you will rule wit the kindness and compassion and strength I could not. I regret bringing you into this mess, but it is your duty to take on the responsibility of the evil I have created. The prison camps are not what they seem. I wish I could tell you more, but even now I am being watched. I know my time left with you is limited, but I want you to know that I love you with all my heart._

_My special daughter. My little Princess.”_

_The girl sobbed and screamed her grief out into the night, holding the locket against her chest with all her strength. She screamed and cried until she was pulled away by one of the Royal Advisors and taken to wash away the King’s blood on her hands. Clarke swore to get revenge and find out who killed her father that night. She cried her last tears as her father bled to death._

“…Clarke? Clarke, you in there?” A voice boomed. A knock on the door pulled Clarke back into herself and she gasped. She hadn’t had a flashback like that in years.

“Uhm, hmm, yea. I’m here.” Clarke cleared her throat and tried to sound normal. Her hand gripped the locket around her neck and she leaned her head back against the door.

“The crew and I are going to have a celebration, to celebrate Adam’s life and stuff. You should come. And meet the crew.” Bellamy’s voice called through the door. He sounded uncomfortable and she could hear his feet shuffling nervously.

“Did Octavia put you up to this?” She asked in amusement.

“What? No. Of course not. I just thought it would be nice for the crew to meet you officially. If you aren’t going to come, you’ll miss out on a great party.

Monty’s even going to bring out his moonshine.”

“I might show up. Just a little tired. You beat the crap outta me earlier.” Clarke replied, forcing a laugh. She heard Bellamy chuckle and his heavy footsteps disappeared down the hall. She took a shaky breath and jumped up, walking around her room and shaking out her nerves. Clarke pinched her cheeks to make sure she was back to normal, and then left her room to join in on the party.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oooh! Some insight into Clarke's father's death and some of her background! I hope it's interesting and well written. Next chapter is all about the party and the rescue! I even included some Bellarke wonderfullness for you poor shippers.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for updating so late! I got busy with school and work and I'm so exhausted.  
> But here's chapter four! Wow, it feels like it's been more than four chapters...  
> I hope you guys enjoy, and don't forget to comment/kudo cause I live for that  
> ***Also I wrote a panic attack scene, so if that's triggering, might wanna skip it***  
> Disclaimer: I don't own The 100

Clarke stood at the bottom of the wooden stairs that led up to the deck. She could hear the noise everyone was making above her and it made her even less inclined to join in on the fun. She placed her foot on the first step, and stopped. That was far enough, right? She didn’t have to go up there, did she? Octavia would probably find her and drag her up eventually if she didn't go up now. She sighed and ascended into chaos. The deck was a mess of people, reminding Clarke of just how many people there were on this hunk of junk. She squeezed between the bodies and made her way over to the edge of the ship by the railing. She grabbed a cup from a stray crew member, who was too drunk to notice the loss of their drink. How long had she been locked up in her room? Clarke saw some people she recognized among the crowd, but the majority was unfamiliar faces. She sniffed the drink she’d nabbed and wrinkled her nose. It was a homemade, or ship-made, moonshine. It wasn’t going to be tasty, but hopefully it would be effective in drowning out feelings. She took a tentative sip and gagged.

“Yea, it’s not the best, but it’ll do.” A voice chuckled. Clarke looked over to see Monty leaning against the railing with a smile on his face. He wasn’t drunk yet, but the pink tints of his cheeks hinted to Clarke that he was at least tipsy.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Clarke replied after forcing the foul liquid down. “You better, or at least the word of all of ‘em.” Monty said, gesturing to the crowd on the ship. She smiled and took another swig of the moonshine.

“Do I want to know how this is made, or even what’s in it?” Clarke asked. “Nah, probably not.” Monty said with a grimace. Clarke laughed. “You look nicer when you smile you know. Do it more often and maybe the crew will talk to you more.” Monty fake-whispered. Clarke ducked her head to cover her face with her hair, the smile melting off her face.

“I’ll take your word for it.” Clarke replied. Monty nudged her with his shoulder and gestured towards the happy crew.

“Ya see there? They’re all celebrating the life of Atom, and just having a good time. Soon we’re going to be at war, we might lose some more people. We’ve all lost a lot, that’s why we are on this stupid ship, and you can help us. I have a feeling you’ve lost a lot too.” Monty said knowingly. He grinned and then walked back into the crowd, screaming something about Jasper. Clarke looked out into the crowd of people, noticing how happy they all looked, and decided that she would try to be happy too. When she saw Octavia in the crowd, the blonde budged and shoved her way over to the girl.

“Clarke! Hi! Oh my gosh! Can you believe how nice this is?” Octavia chirped, heaving a rather large cup of moonshine up in her face.

“Octavia, don’t you think you should slow down a bit? The night’s barely begun.”

“Of course not silly! Psst, I’m not s’pposed ta tell ya, but Bell has a surprise for you!” Octavia “whispered.” The girl gestured dramatically over to where the tall captain was standing, and nudged Clarke with her shoulders, rather painfully. “What could that asshole have for me?” She replied sarcastically with a roll of her eyes.

“You, li’l missy, are gonna haf to wait and see!” The drunk replied. Octavia pushed away from her friend and made her way over to some of the other, very drunk, crew members. The princess promised to keep a watchful eye on the girl, and to make sure she didn’t get into any trouble. She looked over at Bellamy, and saw him watching his sister as well. At least they both had a protective instinct for their people in common, but that was pretty much it.

“Fuck this.” Clarke sighed, drowning the rest of her drink with a grimace. She shook her dizzy head and grabbed another cup from a bystander, then made her way over to Octavia again, determined to have fun. Before she could reach the girl, however, the captain jumped up onto a pile of supplies and yelled, “Alright! Alright, you drunkards! I have an announcement, so shut it!” He waited for the crowd to die down, which they did even though they were drunk-which was a testament to Bellamy's power.

“Now I know this has been a busy past few days, but I have a few announcements to make. As you know, in a week or so, we’ll be launching a rescue mission for our imprisoned friends! I will not let them stay in that fucking camp any longer! Atom’s death has put us back a few days, but with the help of a new crew member, we are back on track to saving our people!” Bellamy paused to let a cheer rise, and raised his hand for silence.

“Speaking of a new member, I’m glad to introduce our new healer! Clarke, come on up here!” He smirked. Clarke felt the moonshine roll in her stomach, and she immediately sobered up. What the hell was he doing?

“Clarke here is the one who was brave enough attend to Atom until he died. She’s the one to thank for our new mission! She’s one of us now, and I expect all of you to treat her so. That’s all. Get back to drinking, do whatever the hell you want!” He yelled. “Whatever the hell we want!” The crew cheered back. A few came over and introduced themselves to Clarke, and by a few she meant the entire crew. The nervous blonde chugged down the last of her third drink, relaxing more and more with each sip.

 

“Thanks! Great to meet you too. Now that is my ass, and if you touch it again I swear I’ll cut your hand off.” Clarke threatened with a sickly sweet smile. One member, who was quite drunk, had kept grabbing her ass when she least expected it. The groper frowned, raised his hands in surrender, and wandered- or more like stumbled, off.

“Aren’t we just so friendly?” A voice asked. Clarke turned to see Bellamy standing behind her, leaning against the railing with a full cup of moonshine in his hand. She rolled her eyes and walked over to lean on the railing next to him.

“Friendly. Yup.” She stated, taking another swig from her drink.

“Might want to slow down there, tiger. You might actually have fun.” Bellamy teased. She scoffed and swallowed another mouthful of the foul liquid.

“I can be fun.” She stuttered.

“Yea, as much fun as one can have with a stick shoved so far up their ass.” He retorted with a smile. Tipsy Princess was fun to mess with.

“I can! I do not have a stick up my ass. But say I’m not fun and you might have my foot shoved up your ass.” She said with a raised eyebrow.

“You? Fun? Hmm. If you go over and play beer pong with the rest of the crew, I’ll admit that sometimes you can maybe be fun.” The Captain challenged. Clarke just nodded and handed him her empty cup.

“Watch and learn, oh great Captain.” She teased, walking off to join in the game with some of the crew members.

 

“I have to say, that it was a tough game and I gave it my all. But I won and beat all their asses. So fess up mis’er.” Clarke drawled. She’d just finished up playing beer pong with the crew, and was proud to say that she crushed them all. The crew all learned not to challenge Clarke to anything, because she was so competitive some of them thought they would actually die. Bellamy watched the game in amusement, and awe. He didn’t know that such a petite girl could drink so much alcohol and still be standing, nevertheless killing it at beer pong. Sure, it was a little difficult considering the fact that they were at sea, and the ship wasn’t totally still, but damn. Princess had game.

“I can see that. Now I think you should go on down and rest. You drank a lot and are gonna have one hell of a hangover in the morning.” Bellamy chuckled. Clarke pouted and batted away his hands.

“Nooooooo,” She drawled out, “You have to admit that I can be fun first.” Bellamy rolled his eyes, looking around to make sure the crew was either passed out or heading down to their quarters.

“Fine. You can be fun. When you’re drunk.” He admitted with a grin. The drunken girl grinned and swayed. This was the first time Bellamy had seen the princess laugh, or even smile. That fact saddened him for some reason, but Bellamy knew that some stories were best left unsaid.

“Told you!” She said happily.

“Yes, yes you did. Now let’s go on to bed.” Bellamy said, patting her on the shoulders. He wrapped one of her arms around his shoulders and stooped down to help her down to her cabin. The duo stumbled around, and the drunk blonde mumbled apologies to the walls they bumped into.

“Alright, here we are. Casa de Clarke.” Bellamy said as he threw open her door and tossed the stumbling drunk inside. She swayed back and forth and started to pull her shirt up to get ready for bed.

“Woah there,” Bellamy said with a laugh. She was really drunk if she was undressing in front of him of all people. His laughter died out when he saw the mess of scars all over her back. There were whip marks, small bullet wound scars, and other strange marks that he didn’t want to know what caused. Bellamy gently pulled her shirt down and led her to the bed. She didn’t protest and only groaned. He helped her over to her bed and gently laid her down on the covers. Deciding to be a decent human being, Bellamy took of her shoes and threw a blanket on top of her before heading to leave. He felt like he owed her, and he wanted to know what, or who, had given her so many scars. But he knew she was too drunk to explain and Bellamy knew he wasn't ready for that conversation just yet.

“Wait. Will you stay with me for a bit? I promise its jus’ a lil’ bit. Just till’ I go to sleep.” The blonde mumbled, her voice muffled by the blanket on top of her.

“I don’t know…” He hesitated. He barely knew the girl, let alone liked her. Respect, maybe a little.

“I don’t like being alone you know. I was alone in the dark wall and I was alone in that camp with the dark. It was dark on the table with the white-coats. I don’t like being alone in the dark. The dark is where the demons hide.” Clarke whimpered. She knew somewhere where she was still rational that displaying this weakness in front of Bellamy was a bad idea and would bite her in the ass, but she was not being rational at the moment. She was drunk and tired and sick of being alone all the time. Bellamy had no idea what she was talking about, but he vaguely remembered Clarke mentioning being held in a prison camp before, and he knew he couldn’t leave her. Whatever this little princess had gone through before falling onto his ship, must have been complete and utter hell.

“No worries. I’m here. You aren’t alone anymore. Octavia, Monty, Jasper, all the crew. We’re all here. We are family now.” Bellamy comforted. He sat down on the foot of her bed and patted her leg. He heard a sigh of relief, and then the deep breaths of sleep. Bellamy sat on the bed for a few more minutes, wondering what could make the woman who literally tore a bullet out of her own body and stitched herself back up could be afraid of.

 

_“Get in line!” The guard yelled, slashing his whip down at the prisoners. Clarke ignored the screams of the workers and kept hitting the stone in front of her with her pick. She learned the hard way not to help or protest when the guards were out. The scars on her back still ached. She’d been working for hours, and hadn’t had any food or water for a day. What little rations were given to the prisoners were rotting and disgusting, but food was food. After a month in the camp, Clarke had gotten used to choking down whatever she could. Yesterday, however, when she tried to get her rations, she was denied the “food.” Clarke knew what that meant, the whole camp did._

_Whenever the white-coats took someone, they always starved them the day before. For whatever reason, nobody knew. But now Clarke was next to disappear into the lower level, where the screams echoed. Some came back from the lower level, but most didn’t. If they did, they were scarred and had an empty look in their eyes, and soon died after coming back. Gossip spread of how Clarke was next, and now whatever alliances she had made with the other prisoners was gone. There were no long lasting relationships down here. Friendships were too risky. They did anything to survive; there wasn’t room for others in this hell. It was later that night when the guards came and grabbed her. She had been lying in her corner, which she worked hard to get, when the guards grabbed her. They didn’t bother being quiet, and Clarke didn’t bother resisting. She’d seen what happened to those who resisted, and it wasn’t pretty. Her heartbeat thrummed in her mind, and Clarke admitted to being afraid. A month ago, she was living it up in a castle as the Princess of a mighty kingdom, now she was the dirt underneath the guards shoes meant to be experimented on. Useless._

_Clarke was thrown into a dark room, and pulled over to a bloodstained table with leather restraints. She fought back then, trying to get away to no avail. Moments later, she was strapped down and waiting for the white-coats._

_“This one seems stronger than the others.”_

_“That’s because it’s been here for only a month.”_

_“Really? I’m impressed. It still seems in good condition.”_

_“That’s why we picked it.”_ It _. That was what she was. Not even human._

_“Well, let’s get started! What are we testing today?”_

_“Pretty much everything. I want to see how that worm works on a healthier, younger body.”_

_Clarke swallowed thickly and pushed back her tears. She was terrified, scared shitless, but she was not going to let them have the satisfaction of seeing it. Clarke heard the men laughing and something opening. “_

_Here we are. Alright. I’m starting on the leg, and we’ll see what happens from there.” She heard the scratch of a pencil on paper, and then the white-coats dropped something on her leg. The thing burrowed itself in her flesh and ate away at her leg. Clarke screamed and screamed until her voice went hoarse. Worm after worm were carved out of her body and then placed back somewhere else. After a while, she went silent, listening to the sound of her flesh being eaten and the sound of pencil on paper. The next experiment was a drug that made Clarke so afraid. She hallucinated her greatest fears, seeing her father dead again, her mother dead, her friends dead. Horrors she’d never even thought of crept out of the depths of her mind and tortured her._

_Day after day she was experimented on. They gave her food and water every once and a while. She heard them talking about how great of a subject she was, and how long she’d lasted so far. Days passed, and every hour was spent in complete misery. They cut her up, dumped acid on her, drugged her with strange substances, suspended her in a vat of strange liquid that itched and pricked at her skin, gassed her, and many more atrocities. Soon Clarke felt nothing but pain. Saw nothing but darkness. Heard nothing but the sound of the pencil against the paper and observations. Sometimes they starved her to see if it would affect the outcome of a drug or some device meant to torture. For a while she questioned why they did this to her, or to anyone, but now she just wished to be back up in her corner. Worrying about meeting her work quota and avoiding the guard’s whips, not worrying about if she would live through the next hour._

_After what felt like years, which was really only months, Clarke was finally released from the table and taken back to the mines. The feeling of being out of the dark room and with actual humans again was too much, and Clarke knew that she would escape somehow. She would survive. She had to. Of course, the men gave her no time to heal or even get used to being on her own two legs again before throwing her back in the fray. The only reason she survived those first couple of weeks back in the mines was because of him. He had helped her regain what strength she could and comforted her when she woke screaming in the night. But later he too betrayed her. He too left her forever._

_He too died_.

 

Clarke woke up to an immense headache and a groan. The memory of her time on the table was pushed back into the box it had been locked up in, and she tried not to think back on those months. Her head felt as if someone had bashed it in and shoved it into a cannon then shot it right into a brick wall. She sat up and let out another groan. This must be what a hangover felt like. The feeling definitely made her want to pour out any moonshine left on this boat, if she didn’t drink it all last night. She slowly inched off of her bed and over to her cabinet to change clothes. Once she accomplished that task successfully, after too many failed tries, she slowly opened her door and headed for the kitchen. The loud bangs of pots and pans and the shouts of the crew made Clarke’s head pound even more and she leaned against the wall leading to the kitchen and rubbed her temple.

“What the hell, I am never drinking any more alcohol ever.” The blonde promised herself. Hangovers weren’t worth it. As fun as last night was, she could have fun without the help of alcohol. Speaking of last night, Clarke could barely remember anything. She remembered beer pong, and drinking competitions with some of the crew, but the rest of the night was fuzzy. Yea, she was definitely staying away from moonshine for a while.

“Hey Clarke!” called some of the crew, who were busy chugging down some rations before heading out to work. She smiled in response and grabbed her bread ration and some water and sat down in the corner of the room. She munched on her bread, still feeling a bit nauseous, but not enough to keep her from eating. Sipping the cool water was heavenly, and when she was finished, she left the kitchen and headed out on the deck. The cool breeze and fresh air gave Clarke the boost she needed, and she breathed in the salty sea air and relaxed a bit.

“So you finally woke up!” Octavia called from across the ship. Clarke squinted in the sun, the brightness sending another pounding headache into her head.

“I wish I was still asleep.” She complained, but her mouth formed a smile.

“I’m guessing that hangover is killer, right?” Octavia asked with a laugh. Clarke just groaned in response, which was enough information for the giggly brunette.

“Don’t worry. You get used to it.” She said.

“I hope not.” The two girls walked over to where they stored their practice swords and started stretching. They had fallen into a daily routine: wake up, warm up, train, cool down, eat, and then chores. Clarke was happy to have the practice, she desperately needed it, and Octavia was happy to have a friend who would actually fight back and not worry about hurting her. Having the captain as a brother was great, until he forbade anyone from even touching her, let alone accidentally hurting her in a sparing match. With Clarke, Octavia didn’t have to worry about someone going easy on her. The girls faced each other with their blades held out in a fighting stance, and began to spar.

 

“You…are…getting-shit! Better!” Octavia said between slashes. She cursed when Clarke disarmed her with a twisting move she’d shown her the other day. It wasn’t the most honorable of tricks, but it worked.

“It’s all thanks to you.” Clarke panted. The two sweaty girls paused to catch their breath and chug down some water. They looked out onto the ocean, listening to the sounds of the crew and the waves crashing against the ship.

“Captain!” Monroe’s voice echoed. Clarke looked up to the crow’s nest, where Monroe was keeping watch, to catch a clue of what was happening.

“Ship ahead!” Her voice called down. Clarke jumped up and ran to the port bow with some of the crew. Her heart sank in her chest when she saw the recognizable seal on the flag flying from the ship. Even though it was barely distinguishable from the distance, Clarke knew those colors well. She had grown up in a castle filled with those colors.

“It’s a royal ship.” Clarke whispered, her voice cracking. Shit. She just had to run into a Royal ship in the middle of nowhere in the ocean with nowhere to run.

“Octavia, I need to get Bellamy.” Clarke said urgently to the girl, who was looking at the ship in wonder.

“I’ve never seen a royal ship before! Well, at least when it wasn’t shooting at us.” Octavia rambled.

 

“You know the drill! Hide the goods, get ready to be merchants!” Bellamy called out. He had just come out of his cabin and took quick control of the situation. They were pirates after all, not the most legal occupation.

“Bellamy!” Clarke called through the chaos. Cannons and armaments were being moved down below into hidden compartments in the deck and the crew was running around to fix up the ship.

“What now Princess?” Bellamy sighed. He looked at the frantic blonde and wondered why she was so freaked out.

“They can’t know I’m here.” She breathed.

“And why is that?” Bellamy asked condescendingly. He noted the fearful look in her eyes and he felt concern bubble within him.

“I’m the p- I can’t tell you. I just can’t be seen! If they see me, they will sink this ship and kill everyone on board. Probably including me, but that isn’t important now.” Clarke rambled nervously. She wanted to tell someone her secret. It was terrible keeping it all covered up and the lies left a rotten feeling in Clarke’s stomach. If a thieving pirate captain had to be the one she confided in, so be it. But whenever she came close, she remembered how the crew talked about the monarchy. She overheard countless conversations talking about how corrupt and unfair the government was, and how it made them into criminals and chased them away from their families, or killed their families. Clarke knew the government needed to change, and she knew how corrupt it was, it was why she ran away in the first place. She was sure that if the crew found out she’s the fucking princess of said government, they would kill her.

“You gotta give me something, princess.” Bellamy said. He wanted to help Clarke, but he didn’t like it when people-let alone his own crew- kept secrets from him. Clarke growled in exasperation and looked over at the other ship again, noticing how much closer it was.

“You know that nickname you have for me?” She blurted. Bellamy nodded slowly, not understanding where she was going.

“It’s pretty accurate.” She said softly.

“What do you mean?” Bellamy asked slowly, the gears in his head turning.

“Clarke! Don’t you have to hide?” Octavia called. She grabbed Clarke’s arm and pulled her away from the bewildered Captain.

“Cause you’re a noble right? So I’m pretty sure that a royal ship wouldn’t want to find a noble on a ship like this.” Octavia said, as if it was common sense. Clarke mentally slapped herself, repeatedly. She could’ve just used that with Bellamy instead of practically blowing her cover.

“Right! That makes sense…” Clarke muttered to herself.

“Come on, I know the perfect place.” Octavia said, pulling Clarke into Bellamy’s cabin. Clarke looked back at the Captain before letting herself be pulled in. His brow was furrowed in concentration and he held his rapier so tight his knuckles turned white. She swallowed the lump in her throat and knew she had to deal with this catastrophe later. Octavia opened up the closet of Bellamy’s cabin, and Clarke tried not to sniff the Bellamy smell of firewood and cinnamon. Octavia pulled out a section of the back wall and gestured for Clarke to get in. Clarke froze. No. Not again. She couldn’t go in the wall again. Last time she hid in the wall-space her father had been brutally killed. Her breath came out in raspy gasps and Clarke tried to conceal her panic.

“Hey, don’t worry! It’ll only be for a little bit, and Bell keeps this space pretty clean since it’s usually where his treasure is. Don’t tell him I said that.” Octavia said reassuringly, mistaking Clarke’s panicked expression for fear of hiding. She was partially right, but there was no way this girl could understand the scope of what she was asking. Clarke looked into Octavia’s eyes, and was surprised to see true understanding in the girl’s eyes. She nodded and slowly knelt down and crawled into the wall-space. Octavia gently placed the wooden panels back into place and then there was silence.

Clarke took deep breaths and closed her eyes, counting to ten over and over again. She heard thumps and felt the ship rock and knew that some of the Royal guard had boarded. Her heart was beating out of her chest and Clarke could feel her entire body shaking. Flashes of blood and screams filled her senses and she pulled her knees in closer to her chest. Her breathing came out in chokes and gasps and Clarke felt an impending sense of doom. She knew she was going through a panic attack, and she tried to do her breathing exercises to calm down. Nothing was working.

She knew she hadn’t been in the space for long, but it felt like years. Seconds turned to months and minutes to centuries. She vaguely heard some of the guards rummaging around in Bellamy’s room and she was able to slow her breathing to make sure they didn’t hear her. She felt the ship rock again, but Clarke was shaking like a leaf in the wind and the world seemed to be turning upside down. The dark was seeping into her skin and she could see her father through the crack in the wall again. He was kneeling in front of the dark figure and then the sword was stabbing him again and again and again and again-again-again-again. Clarke distantly heard quiet whimpers and knew she was making the pathetic noises. She could hear Octavia laughing and Bellamy’s low rumbling chuckle, but she was unable to stop her panic and compose herself in time. The hidden panels were pulled away and light seeped into the crawlspace.

“Clarke? Clarke what’s wrong?” Octavia exclaimed. Clarke sobbed and she hid her face in her hands.

“I-it’s o-o-k-kay. I’ll b-be f-f-f-fine. Just g-give m-me a minute.” Clarke stuttered. Her heart fluttered in panic and the impending sense of doom was overwhelming.

“You’re not ok. O, can you give us a minute?” Bellamy said gently.

“What? Why?” She protested.

“Remember when we took you out after a long time? It’s similar. Just go.” Bellamy said softly. Octavia opened her mouth in protest, and then closed it. She knew what her brother was talking about. She knew how it felt to be trapped. The only thing that helped her was Bell, so Octavia nodded and left.

“Clarke, it’s okay now. Just come on out. You don’t have to be trapped anymore.” Bellamy said soothingly. He gently helped Clarke out of the crawl-space and into an open area. He reluctantly pulled her closer to him and placed her shaking body between his legs and wrapped himself around her as a human security blanket.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s okay.” Bellamy muttered. He whispered comforting words into her ear until she stopped shaking. They sat there on the floor for a few more minutes, just holding on to something real. Clarke took a few deep breaths and counted to ten until she felt calm again.

“I’m sorry.” Her voice said, muffled by his shirt. “It’s okay. It’s all good now.” Bellamy replied. He didn’t ask any questions just yet, but both of them knew there would be a lengthy conversation soon.

“You’re surprisingly good at this for being such an ass all the time.” Clarke said with a small laugh. She felt Bellamy’s rumbling laugh and smiled. For some reason, she felt safer than she had in a long time in the arms of the pirate who kidnapped her. Clarke slowly unwound her body from his and stood up with an awkward cough.

“Thanks again. Umm, I’m just gonna go ahead and-“ Clarke muttered, trying to make it to the door.

“Not so fast, princess. You just had a panic attack, and a pretty shitty one based on what I saw. What the hell? You have to explain something. I need to know I can trust you.” Bellamy implored. She swallowed and sighed.

“Let’s just say that the last time I was in a crawlspace like that, I saw my father brutally murdered. Is that enough?” She asked. The captain looked at her for a second, his gaze softening.

“I don’t like dark, cramped spaces. Nothing good comes from them.” Clarke explained nervously. Even though she had told him about her father, she wasn’t ready to talk about her true identity or her past in the camp just yet. Bellamy sensed her unease and didn’t push the issue. He nodded and let her leave. He heard Octavia squealing outside and knew his sister was hugging Clarke and begging for answers. Bellamy had not expected a royal ship to be patrolling this far south, and he remembered the way Clarke had frantically begged for him to hide her. What did she mean that his nickname for her was “pretty accurate?” He knew she had a dark past, and that she was obviously from a royal family. He recalled how she had drunkenly revealed that she didn’t like the dark because of a wall and a white-coat. A lightbulb went off as he connected the wall-space to her father’s death. Made sense for her to be afraid of small cramped spaces if she watched her own father murdered from in one, but what was the white coat? Bellamy sat down in his chair, enveloped in his thoughts. One of the papers on his desk caught his eye, and he noted one of the notations he made in the margin:

**“In some of the camps, it is rumored that terrible experiments are conducted on the prisoners, usually ending in death. These doctors stain their white lab coats blood and death for ‘science’.”**

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Bellamy whispered to himself. It all made sense. The scars, the fear, the white-coats. She had said she was held in a camp before. Fuck. That small blonde girl had been tortured in a prison camp and experimented on! The realization shook Bellamy to his core, and he rubbed his temple. What horrors had she experienced at such a young age?

This girl was going to be the death of him

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What did you think? I don't want to put too much bellarke into this just yet, since i'm trying to do a slow burn.  
> Also I had issues with the preview and formatting of this chapter, so tell me if it turned out ok!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update! I lost my laptop and had to start over from scratch on my dad's! *cries* BUT Here's 8065 words to make up for it! I hope you like this one and theres a bit of a twist, mwuahahha

“Clarke! We’re almost there! You need to get changed.” Octavia called out to the wandering blonde. Said blonde glanced over at the shouting girl and sighed. It had been a week since her incident in the crawl-space, and after giving the same explanation she’d given to Bellamy to Octavia, the two girls had trained endlessly. Bellamy was too busy planning a raid on a prison to help with her training or talk about her attack, and Clarke was fine with the distance. Octavia had been more accepting about Clarke’s explanation, and had even revealed that due to a royal order limiting rations, families could only have one child where she was born. Clarke remembered the early years of her life when the famine had struck the kingdom and forced her father to take drastic measures to preserve resources, but all the world’s problems had seemed so far away from inside her castle.

“When the guards found out about me, they took my mother and executed her for treason. They were going to kill me too when Bell saved me and took me far away. I’m the reason he became a pirate king, but I’m not sorry for being alive. I’m only sorry for the other mothers and children who weren’t as lucky as I was. I swear, I will find the royal family and make them pay for what they’ve done. I promise Clarke. We will get our revenge.”  
Clarke remembered how furious Octavia had been when she’d told her the story of her life. Octavia’s hatred for the royal crown ran deep, and Clarke knew she couldn’t tell her of her real heritage. If Octavia knew she was the princess, Clarke would surely be killed. This knowledge killed the lonely blonde, and she focused on training and learning to fight instead of learning to trust.

“Thanks. I’ll be right back.” Clarke called back. She passed Bellamy’s cabin and saw the door was open. Inside the cabin the Captain himself and his first and second officers as well as a few other trusted crewmembers were running over the plan again and again to test for any miscalculations or mistakes. Clarke saw the Captain glance up at her, and she quickly averted her gaze and crawled down the stairs to her room.

She opened the door in trepidation, not wanting to see the physical reminder of her past lying on the bed. The dress was beautiful, there was no doubt about that. Bellamy had claimed he’d stolen it from a duchess on some ship somewhere and she believed him. The deep blue silk was soft and well cared for, and the lace embroidery traced beautiful and delicate designs along the skirt and bodice. Multi-colored patterns made the dress shimmer and gave the impression of a cut sapphire turned to fabric. Clarke clenched her fist and took a deep breath. She remembered what the soft fabric felt like against her skin, and how tight the corset was and how it took her breath away in the way her maids told her she would to men.

First Clarke stripped down to her underdress, then she pulled on the first layer of the dress and tightened the corset. Trying to tie the corset was tough with only her hands, but she managed. After that challenge came the silk layer. She could’ve sworn the smooth silk itched and burned, but Clarke knew it was just her imagination. She made sure the skirt was long enough to cover the boots she was wearing underneath and that her hair was up in a traditional royal braid pattern. She needed to look like a bunch of trained servants had put her together, and not one inexperienced girl in order for the disguise to be effective.

“Let’s do this.” Clarke said to her reflection in the floor length mirror. Her reflection smiled sadly and her eyes were dark with trauma. Clarke turned from the reflection and slammed her door open. She was the Royal Crown Princess of Arc Kingdom. She would rule an entire kingdom one day. She was royalty and demanded respect from her subjects. Clarke repeated her mantra in her mind as she climbed up the steps leading to the deck. She is the Royal Crown Princess. She is the Royal Crown Princess. I am the Royal Crown Princes. I am Clarke Griffin, Princess of Arc Kingdom.

 

Bellamy was waiting on the front deck with his most trusted officers for Clarke. They were all dressed in the fanciest clothes they owned to look more like servants to a noble rather than the mangy pirates they really were. Bellamy tugged at the itchy coat and made sure his gun was well hidden by his waistcoat. He saw Murphy and Miller doing the same out of the corner of his eye.

“What’s taking so damn long,” Murphy complained. Bellamy just rolled his eyes.

“Speak of the devil,” Miller murmured. Bellamy heard the creak of the wooden steps and turned to see Clarke rising from the depths of the ship.  
That’s not Clarke, part of him said. The woman who rose from the ship was obviously royalty. From the posture to the attitude and expression on her face, she dripped regality. How had he not seen it before? The regal slope of her nose, the piercing blue eyes, all of it was familiar. That same expression was the same as the one worn by the queen of Arc Kingdom. Those eyes were the Griffin Family eyes. The Royal Family’s eyes.

 

“You know that nickname you have for me?” She blurted. Bellamy nodded slowly, not knowing where she was going.

“It’s pretty accurate.” She said softly.

No. No way. He was just imagining things. There was no way a royal was on his ship. They all lived in the capital, surrounded by guards and swimming in riches. The Princess was sick and kept inside the castle; she wasn’t on his ship. Bellamy shook the thought out of his head and focused on the mission ahead.

“Ready?” He asked Clarke.

She gave him a small nod and gestured for them to move on. Her entire demeanor had changed. She was not the Clarke he had known on this ship for the past few weeks.

“Damn girl. Talk about fancy.” Murphy whistled. Clarke looked over at him, gave him a once over, and made a sound of disgust. Then she turned back towards the view in front of them and clenched her jaw. Sitting a few hundred feet away were the gates leading into the harbor of the camp. Flashbacks of coming here with Wells and her father as a child flooded her mind, but Clarke pushed them away.

“Aren’t we heading in?” Clarke asked with a sigh of disdain. She had to be in character now so she wouldn’t break later. She heard Murphy snort and rolled her eyes. She was next in line to the throne, and she did not have time for such trash.

“Of course.” Bellamy cursed. Seeing the transformation was strange. Clarke met his dark eyes, and Bellamy saw anguish in them. She hated this, he realized. But why? What girl wouldn’t want to play princess and wear fancy dresses? Bellamy gestured for Miller and Murphy to raise the sails and for the crew below to start rowing them into the harbor. While they were busy prepping the ship, he walked next to Clarke.

“Bellamy, I need you to promise me that when we go in, it will just be me and you. The warden will want to talk to me, and I can’t be alone with him and I need you to be there. Are you listening? It can’t be anyone else.” Clarke pleaded. She reached over with one hand and gripped his sleeve earnestly.

“Why?” He asked simply.

“You’ll see.” Clarke said after a pause. Bellamy resisted the urge to roll his eyes. This was becoming too dramatic.

“Prepare for boarding!” A guard shouted. After a half hour of rowing, The 100 had made it through the gate, and was now docked at the end of the harbor. Clarke looked around at the other guard ships next to them and gulped. She could do this. A ramp was lowered and the moment it hit the deck, the guards marched on board.

“Who goes there, and what be your business at Washington?” The head guard asked.

“Watch your tone, guardsman. Know who it is you speak to.” Clarke spat. She strutted up to the guard and handed him a letter sealed with the Royal symbol. He opened the letter and skimmed its contents, his eyebrows raising as he did. Clarke remembered the burns she’d got from the hot wax when she tried to use her locket to seal the letter. Without a letter of introduction, they couldn’t get off the boat. She’d labored for hours to make her writing seem as official as possible, and now the work was paying off. The guard paled and handed the letter back anxiously.

“I’m terribly sorry, Your Majesty. Right this way.” The guard said with a bow. He gestured for her to follow him down the ramp and Clarke huffed. She picked up her skirt and walked down the rotting ramp to the dock. There she was escorted by the guards to the Warden’s office right below the guard tower. She ordered the guards to bypass the usual procedure and they obeyed, allowing her and her “guards” through security without a search.

“Care to explain?” Bellamy whispered in her ear. Clarke shot him a patronizing look that told him to be quiet for once in his life. Bellamy rolled his eyes but held his tongue.

“Wait here please, Your Majesty.” The guardsman said, bowing again. He opened the door to the parlor and let Clarke and Bellamy walk in. The other crewmembers were told to wait outside.

“I’m going to need that explanation soon, princess.” Bellamy whispered. Clarke sighed and kept her mouth shut. She looked around the familiar parlor, at the dusty old armoires and tables covered in knick-knacks from around the world. She saw the chip on one of the decorative plates in the glass cabinet and smiled at the memory of when she and Wells had broken it and some other precious plates on one of their trips to the camp when they were children.

“Welcome to Washington, Princess.” A deep voice called, jolting the blonde out of her memories. Clarke looked over to see Warden Jemory step out of his inner office. He lowered himself into a low bow and rose with a smile.

“I did not expect Princess Clarke Griffin to show up at my humble abode so soon. I’d heard you were ill.” He said smoothly. Ill? Her mother must have not wanted the kingdom to know of her year of torture and escape. Clarke ignored the burning glare Bellamy was giving her and smiled slyly at the Warden.

Betrayal pierced Bellamy like a blade. He’d had his suspicions about the mysterious girl who’d joined his crew, but this was definitely not what he’d expected. A fucking royal? The Crown Princess no less? He was in way over his head.

“I’m getting a head start on my duties as Queen.” Clarke chuckled. The Warden laughed as well.

“What would you like to see, my Lady?” The Warden asked. Clarke glanced over at Bellamy to see if he was still motivated to rescue his imprisoned crew. The Pirate Captain was giving her a simmering glare, but nodded as an answer to her silent question. Having her identity revealed so soon was a test Clarke didn’t know if she could pass. So far the plan was going good, but if Bellamy decided partnering with the Royal Princess was too much they were screwed.

“Just give me the usual tour. I’d like to speak to a few prisoners as well.” Clarke replied with a wave of her hand. The warden nodded and led Clarke and Bellamy out of the parlor and deeper into the prison. The rest of the crew joined them when they emerged from the room and Miller gave Bellamy a questioning look, which the captain ignored. He had a mission to accomplish. He did not have time to deal with the royal fucking princess.

“We have made a few changes since your last visit, as per your mother’s orders. Chancellor Jaha has taken over some of the duties that belonged to your late father as well.” The warden explained while walking. Clarke stiffened at the mention of her father, but forced a smile out. She could feel Bellamy’s intense stare at her back, but Clarke avoided looking in the Captain’s direction.

“...but soon I hope you will be the one making those changes, Your Majesty.” The Warden cooed. Clarke swallowed down bile at the ass-kissing the Warden was giving her, and giggled. She looked back at the crew, still avoiding Bellamy, and saw how confused they looked. Clarke sighed and stepped away from her ‘guards’ and gestured for the Warden to join her.

“I’m sure you’re aware of how tense the Royal Court has been after my- after my father’s passing, and some are not fit to be trusted. Consequently I ask that you refer to me as a Duchess and treat me as such to avoid suspicion. Public appearances are dangerous these days and my mother does not wish for anything bad to happen to me.” Clarke whispered. The Warden smirked and agreed to Clarke’s terms.

 

“Right this way, my Lady. This is the common’s area where the prisoners gather between work and sleep. Food is also served here now.” The Warden stated. He led Clarke up to the balcony above the common’s where the guards usually observed the prisoners. Clarke looked down into the pit and saw dingy old tables and benches with dirty prisoners wandering around or sitting at the old tables. There was a counter at the far end of the pit where she assumed food was served and hallways branched out and led to the cells.

“Very well. I would like to see the where you keep the more rowdy prisoners, if you would.” Clarke ordered. The Warden’s lip curled, but he nodded. Clarke knew she was pushing the Warden’s patience, but she had no choice. Their plan relied on getting to the more secure areas.

 

 

Bellamy was leaning over his desk, where the sketches of Washington and other papers lied, explaining the plan again. Clarke had helped him come up with their plan, but now they were explaining it to the rest of the crew directly involved in the mission.

“Now after we get in, we have to go down to the detention center where your friends will be. The first level, which is on the surface, is where all the fake displays are. It’s where they make you think everything is fine. We’ll have to go down to the second to last level, about fifty feet under ground. That’s where we’ll find them.

“The only way down is a tiny lift that can hold two, maybe three, people at a time. It’s small so that prisoners can’t escape up through it. But there’s a secret stairwell for the guards in case of a riot on the lower levels. To get as many guards down at once, they built the stairwell. It’s heavily guarded and hidden behind a wall, but I can get us to it. That’s out way back out.” Clarke explained. The candle light flickered across the grim expressions of the crew, casting dark shadows across the room.

“After Clarke gets us to the upper level, we fight our way outside and out to the bay. Those who are still on the ship will keep her ready to sail at a moments notice and have the cannons armed and ready to fire. It’ll be a firefight, but I know we can do it. We’ll sail out with our fully reunited crew and escape onto the horizon. Once we get on the ship, we’ll have to improvise a bit but I know we can make it. We’re The 100, the youngest pirate ship out there, and the best. We do whatever the hell we want, whenever the hell we want. And I want our crew back.” Bellamy growled out. The crew cheered and left his cabin in high spirits, believing in their Captain and their mission.

“You’re good at that.” Clarke said quietly. Bellamy looked up at her from behind his desk and smiled.

“You have to be. Half of success comes from our skills, the other half comes from determination and the belief that we can succeed. That way when our skills aren’t enough, we fight our hardest anyway.” He replied. Clarke nodded. It made sense.

“Good night, oh great and glorious Captain.” Clarke said with a smirk. Bellamy gave her a small smile.

“Night, princess.” Her smile faltered, and Bellamy saw a brief chink in the girls outside armor, but it disappeared as soon as it had appeared. Clarke smiled back sadly and left the cabin.

 

“As I’m sure you know, only two can ride the elevator at a time.” The warden announced when the group arrived at the elevator doors.

“Of course.” Clarke replied. She moved to ride with the Warden, but Bellamy held her back.

“My Lady will ride with me.” He growled. His burning eyes left no room for protest, making the Warden nod slowly. The Warden went down first with Miller, and then Murphy and Roma went down. Clarke waited silently with Bellamy and a few prison guards for the rickety elevator to open. She knew once the doors closed behind her, Bellamy would pounce- and she was not looking forward to the incoming conversation in such cramped quarters.

Ding! Rang the elevator as the old brass doors opened and the inner gate lifted. Clarke walked inside the elevator, Bellamy hot on her heels. He pushed the lever to the correct level and waited for the doors to close. He was silent for a moment as the elevator jerked into motion, then roughly pushed Clarke against the side of the elevator and slammed his arms on either side of her face, barricading her against him.

“You have some explaining to do.” He snarled. Clarke glared at the pirate.

“Did you really expect me to tell the pirate who had forced me onto his ship that I was the fucking princess of the kingdom? I barely know you, and I didn’t want you to know, but in order to save your crew I had to sacrifice my safety by letting you find out who I am.”

“Safety? Clarke, harboring the princess of the kingdom on my ship, a pirate ship mind you, endangers my entire crew. It endangers Octavia!” He exclaimed. Clarke flinched at his mention of the girl who had become her friend, but straightened her spine and stepped into Bellamy’s arms. The Captain took a step back, not expecting Clarke’s sudden approach.

“Listen to me, pirate. I did not run away from my hell of a palace to be insulted. I did not watch my father die and watch Fi- my friends die to become a pirate. I did not get shot by my own mother for this! I have been through more than you could ever imagine and I plan on dismantling the injustices and corruption that is poisoning my kingdom! I will have my revenge and I will take what is rightfully mine and fix the mistakes of my predecessors. If I have to become a pirate to do it, fine. But I will not stand here and have you insult me like that. Do you think I wanted to put Octavia or Monty or Jasper in danger? Do you really think I’m that careless? Don’t insult me, pirate. You know nothing, and until you do you will treat me like anybody else.” Clarke spat. Fire burned in her brilliant blue eyes, and the pain hidden beneath the fury struck Bellamy. He saw the queenly grace in her posture and her anger. She would be a terrible and magnificent ruler one day, that much he could see.

Bellamy stepped back and looked away from her piercing gaze. Jaw clenched, Bellamy nodded and glared at Clarke.

“We’re not finished here. And when we get out of here, you and I are going to have a long talk.” He said. Clarke nodded and folded her arms across her chest. She felt bad for snapping at him like that, but she’d meant what she’d said. They did not have time for this right now. The elevator jerked again, and slowly came to a jolting halt. The outer doors opened with a ding and the inner gate slowly creaked up. Clarke strutted out of the elevator and approached the Warden, who was standing with the rest of the crew near a locked iron door. Her dress swooshed loudly in the silence, and Bellamy’s boots clanked as he walked behind her.

The Warden watched the princess emerge from the elevator, and saw the queenly rage in her eyes. He swallowed nervously, knowing this girl was not to be trifled with, despite her youth. The man behind her was a looming shadow that promised death to those who fought him. The Warden was afraid of these two.

“Show me the unruly ones.” Clarke ordered. She knew not to be as rude, but Bellamy had worked her up too much for silly pleasantries.

“Of course, My Lady.” The Warden said softly. He took the key ring out from within his vest and sifted through the many keys until he found a rusty old iron one. He unlocked the iron door and pushed it open slowly. A pair of guards helped him open the door and shut it right when the group had made it inside. Clarke looked around the dark cavern, trying to push back the flashbacks of Walden.

The room was at the same level as the best room in Walden, which was not a compliment. The old lanterns barely illuminated the cold cavern, and from what little light there was, Clarke could make out rows of iron cells in the darkness. She heard coughing and groans of pain, and even some sobs. Every few cells down there was a guard, armed with a gun. The blonde lifted her chin and strolled down the dark hallway, Bellamy right at her side. When he saw one of his crewmembers, he was to signal Clarke by tapping her side. Deeper and deeper into the darkness they went, each foot disgusting Clarke even more. The prisoners wore dirty rags and their cells consisted of dirt floors and walls with a pile of straw for a bed and a bucket, if they were lucky. Most of the cells had a hole for excrement, which smelled like it was rarely cleaned.

Clarke almost passed a cell when Bellamy jabbed her side. She hissed and glared at the man, but looked into the cell he was nodding towards. Inside sat a pile of rags that hid a person. Clarke stepped closer to the cell, making out the long dark hair and glowing eyes of a young woman around her age. The girl glanced over at the familiar faces of her Captain and fellow crew members and raised an eyebrow. Clarke smiled at her, a sign of trust. The girl rose from her crouch and approached the iron bars of her cell. As the light of the lanterns lit up her form, Clarke could see the scars and bruises marring her skin.

“Warden, what’s this one called?” Clarke asked. The Warden spat at the floor and replied, “Raven, my Lady.”

“Raven.” Clarke repeated. She could see the fierceness in Raven’s eyes and knew she was a survivor. The two girls’ eyes met and a mutual understanding passed between them. They could see how they both had lived through terrible tortures and knew each other’s pain.

“Why is she here?” Clarke asked.

“Association with Pirate’s, my Lady.” Clarke grinned and looked over at Bellamy.

“They sound like a terrible group of people.” She said with a small smile. Murphy chuckled behind her.

“My mother has ordered me to transfer some prisoners to Walden for…quantity control. I’ll need five prisoners in decent shape to take with me. This one will be one of them.” Clarke demanded. The Warden blinked and stared at her in confusion.

“My Lady, this is not the usual procedure for a transfer. You need to-“

“I am well aware of what I do and do not need. But you know who I am, and you will do as I say. That’s an order, Warden. I hate to be so rude, but my mother insists. These five are to be used for the advancement of the kingdom.” Clarke announced. The Warden hesitated, but eventually gave in to her demands. A pair of guards unlocked the door and tensely approached Raven. They locked iron cuffs on her arms and pushed her out of the cell.

“Are you sure you want this one, my Lady? She is quite…hostile.” The Warden asked. Raven smirked, and Clarke smiled.

“I’m sure she won’t try anything.” She replied coyly. The Warden only frowned in response. A few more cells down they found Jess and Monroe, then James. With each selection, the Warden’s frown deepened, but he did not protest.

“One more to go.” Bellamy muttered. Raven nudged her Captain, and whispered something into his ear while Clarke distracted the Warden. Bellamy tensed, and nodded at the girl.

“My Lady, why don’t we grab a prisoner from the upper level. I’m sure your mother would not want all of them to be from down here.” Bellamy stated. Clarke looked back at him in confusion, but agreed. He must know something she did not.

“That would be a good idea. Let’s head back up.” Clarke said. The Warden walked to the front of the group and led them back to the elevator, where he and a guard went up first. Then one prisoner and one of Clarke’s ‘guards’: Murphy with Monroe, James with Miller, Jess with Roma, and Raven ended up going up with another prison guard, leaving Bellamy and Clarke alone again. They waited a while until it was their turn to take the slow elevator, and once the doors closed Clarke, asked “Why are we going back up? It’s going to interfere with the plan.”

“Raven just told me that Finn is up at the top level on good behavior. Apparently he was transferred here for helping out at another prison as a sign of good faith, and he’s been staying up at the top this whole time. He’s smart.” Bellamy explained. Clarke sighed and rubbed her temple.

“What’s wrong?” Bellamy asked. Clarke glanced up at the captain, taken aback by his sudden concern for her wellbeing.

“Just memories is all.” She whispered. Bellamy grunted in understanding and the rest of the ride up passed in silence. The doors dinged open and Clarke stepped out to join her gang of misfits. The Warden and the other prison guards looked nervous to have the hostiles up in the upper level, but they did not say anything.

“You can take a look around, my Lady.” The Warden said with a bow, walking away towards his office. Clarke did not like the look in his eyes, and she gave Bellamy a look that said they didn’t have much time left. The Warden was getting suspicious, and for good reason. The suddenly ill Crown Princess had shown up out of the blue for an inspection and even demanded some prisoners to be taken back with her. Even Clarke doubted he would believe her story, and time was running out.

“Bellamy, why don’t you help me pick one and leave the guards with the others.” Clarke ordered. Together Bellamy and Clarke scanned the crowd in the common’s area, although Clarke didn’t really know who she was supposed to be looking for.

“I see him.” Bellamy muttered under his breath. Clarke gestured for him to get the last crewmember, and Bellamy descended into the pit, making a beeline for the left side. The railing of the guard tower blocked Clarke’s view, but soon she saw Bellamy rising up the stairs with a dark haired prisoner in tow. Before she could get a good look at the last man, she turned around and rejoined the rest of the crew.

“Alright guys. It’s time to fight our way out of here. Roma, did you get the keys?” Clarke asked. Roma smirked and raised an iron key from within her breasts. She had seduced a guard and pick pocketed the key to the cuffs.

“Good. Work on getting them free, but do it discreetly. Are you ready to finally be back on the ship?” Clarke asked the prisoners. They all nodded eagerly, and Raven smiled at a person behind Clarke.

“If you want to get out of here, do as I say and follow Bellamy’s lead. Let’s do this.” Clarke said encouragingly. She felt Bellamy’s presence at her back and turned around to face the last crewmember. Her eyes fell on familiar features and she saw the man’s eyes widen in disbelief and recognition. He looked different with long hair, but there was no mistaking those soft brown eyes and gentle lips. But it was impossible, he was dead. Clarke had watched the guards take his limp body away. He’d betrayed her, and then died. How on earth was he here?

“Finnly…” Clarke muttered. She stumbled back, tripping over the bottom of her dress. Bellamy caught her-for the gazillionth time, and looked between the man and Clarke.

“Finn, you know Clarke?” Bellamy asked. Finn nodded.

“We were in Walden together.” Finnly-Finn-stated. The entire group shared a gasp of surprise. Walden had a reputation, a bad one.

“You are supposed to be dead. I watched you die!” Clarke screamed. Finn’s brows knit together, his expression distraught.

“Finn, what’s she talking about?” Raven asked slowly. Raven walked next to Finn, holding his hand and sharing an intimate look with him. Clarke choked, memories flooding her mind.

 

“I heard you came back up from the white-coats.” A voice called from behind Clarke. The thin girl stiffened and reached for the sharp stone hidden within her waistline. Ever since she had come back from the tortures of the caves, the rest of the prisoners ignored her. She heard the whispers, of course. She knew they thought she was a monster who had lived through the experiments and become some sort of monstrosity. She relished in her isolation, happy to be free of the rowdy prisoners looking for anything and doing anything to get it. In the first few weeks of her imprisonment she’s been beaten by fellow prisoners, but now they ignored her. Clarke liked it better this way.

“What do you want?” She growled, not used to the sound of her own voice.

“For starters I want a way out of here. But for now a name will do.” The voice chuckled. He must be new, Clarke thought. To still be able to laugh like that. She turned around to face this stranger. He was handsome, tall and with the remnants of a decently fit body. He had short dark hair and matching brown eyes. His chiseled face still had some color to it, and his soft lips were spread in a smirk.

“Why me?” She asked, ignoring his question.

“Because I know you’re strong enough to survive.” He said. Clarke snorted and turned back around to eat the rest of her gruel.

“Plus you’re mother sent me.” He added. Clarke froze. Her mother? She had almost forgotten about the outside world. It had been almost a year since she’d even seen the sun.

“What did you say?” She growled.

“You’re mother. It took her a while, but she finally found you. Now I’m here to get you out.” The man said with a shrug.

“How’d a princess get in here anyway?” He asked. Clarke slammed her fist against the ground and turned to face the man.

“Name?” She asked.

“I asked you first.” He teased. Clarke glared at him, and he just rolled his eyes.

“The name’s Finn-ly. Finnly.” He stuttered, adding the last syllable almost as an afterthought.

“Clarke.” She replied.

“Well, Princess Clarke, let’s get to work.”

 

“Clarke, I didn’t think you’d make it!” Finn exclaimed excitedly. He reached out for the stunned blonde, but she flinched away. Bellamy watched the princess’s expression, and moved between Clarke and Finn.

“I don’t know what drama you two have, but we have a job to do. Let’s do it. Worry about this later.” He ordered. Bellamy grabbed Clarke’s arm reassuringly and forced the girl to meet his gaze.

“Can you do this?” He asked sternly. Clarke’s blue eyes swam with confusion and hurt, but she pushed back the emotions and took a deep breath.

“Yes.” She said simply.

“Good. Cause we’re out of time.” Bellamy said stiffly. The Warden was approaching, flanked by a dozen or so guards.

“Your Highness, it seems there’s been a mistake. I’m going to have to ask you to relinquish those prisoners and come with me.” He demanded. Clarke stepped up in front of the crew, pushing her feeling about Finn to the back of her mind. First, she had to get out of here.

“I can’t do that, Jemory.” She replied.

“I’d hate to use force, Your Highness, but I hope you forgive this transgression.” The Warden snarled. He lifted his arm and ordered the guards to attack. Raven and the others quickly removed the cuffs and attacked the confused guards behind them, taking their guns and swords. Clarke grabbed the delicate silk skirt and ripped it off, revealing the twin short-swords attached to her legs. Clarke grabbed the swords out of the makeshift scabbards and charged the guards. Their plan of using the staircase to escape was out the door, now they had to fight out the front door.

“To the dock!” Bellamy shouted. The crew roared back a battle cry and charged right along with them. Bellamy pushed Clarke behind him and attacked the first wave of guards. Clarke was kept in the middle of the group, stabbing and jabbing at any guards who came within her reach. Bellamy held the vanguard, with Miller and Murphy at his flanks. The rest of the crew formed a pyramid behind them. This way they could charge right through the guards and out the door. It was a flurry of blood and steel, and Clarke could barely tell where she was and the enemy began. There was a scream, and Clarke saw James carrying Jess. A sword was sticking out of the girl’s side, and blood dripped down the blade.

“Bellamy, we need to hurry.” Clarke urged.

“I know that, Princess!” He shot back, slipping back into his nickname for Clarke. The front gate grew closer, and soon the group had pushed through the doors and were now out in the open air.

“Quick! To the ship!” Bellamy shouted. The crew abandoned the formation and charged for the ship as fast as they could. Most of the guards were behind them now, and all that stood in their way were the guard ships in the harbor. Bellamy stopped at the gangway leading up to the ship and pulled out his gun. He fired on the guards, forcing them to stop and take cover. Miller, Murphy, and Roma did the same, pushing the newly freed crew up onto the ship. James went first, Jess in his arms, and then Monroe and Raven climbed up. Finn stopped, and looked back at Clarke, who was fighting with a guard. He saw her disarm the guard and stab him with one of her blades.

“Finn! Get on the damn boat!” Bellamy roared. Finn obeyed, and Bellamy ran over to grab Clarke. He pulled her along with him and jumped onto the ship.

“Set sail! Fire at will! Let’s get out of here!” The Captain ordered. The roar of cannon fire deafened Clarke, and she slumped against one of the mast posts in exhaustion. Her side ached, and the still healing wound throbbed.

“Clarke! You made it!” Octavia exclaimed. The girl pulled Clarke up and hugged her tightly.

“Hey Octavia. It’s good to see you.” The tired blonde sighed.

“Clarke! We need you over here!” A voice called. She turned and saw Monty waving her over. He was standing over Jess’s body, his hand stained red with her blood.

“Octavia, run down to my room and get my med kit.” Clarke yelled at the girl as she ran over to Monty. The ship jerked, and Clarke lost her footing. She jumped back up and sat down next to Jess. All around her was the sound of battle, and she knew it would be a long day.

“Monty, I need you to get me some water and clean bandages. Now.” Clarke demanded. She quickly cut away the scraps of cloth around Jess’s wound, and inspected it. It didn’t look very deep, and with any luck it wouldn’t get infected.

“Don’t worry, Jess. You’re gonna be fine. I promise.” Clarke said consolingly to the crying girl. Monty appeared with the water, Octavia right behind him. First Clarke gave some of the water to Jess for her to drink, knowing the girl would be low on fluids after staying in the prison for so long. Then, she rinsed the wound while Octavia and Monty held Jess down and started to stitch up the cut. She put some antibiotic herbs on the wound and wrapped it with bandages. Clarke wiped the sweat from her brow.

“All better. Get her down to the med bay and make sure she stays lying down. She shouldn’t move for a while.” Clarke ordered a nervous James. The man nodded and lifted Jess up. Clarke stood, and looked around for Bellamy. She spotted him at the helm, shouting orders to the crew. Clarke climbed up to the helm and bumped the Captain with her shoulder. Bellamy looked down at her, and her blood stained clothes, raising an eyebrow in concern.

“Not mine. Jess. How close are we?” Clarke asked.

“Close. There’s more wounded, so get busy.” Bellamy replied. Clarke nodded, and ignored the cannons and the screams. She focused on the task at hand: healing. Her old Master’s voice rang out advice in her mind as she stitched, bandaged, and fixed up the crew. Soon the jerking stopped, and the smooth familiar rocking of the open ocean took over. Clarke looked up from her work on the most recent wounded pirate, and saw Bellamy helping the remaining crew. She told Monty, who had become her assistant throughout this ordeal, what to do to finish up with the cut and left to talk with Bellamy. All throughout the battle she had seen Finn watching her from the corner of her eyes, but she ignored him.

“We made it?” She asked the Captain. He sighed, and handed the helm over to another crewmember, walking over to the railing. Clarke walked with him and looked back at the island on the horizon and the guard ships fading into the distance.

“Barely. We’ll need to stop to make repairs, one of the masts was hit pretty bad and there’s a few holes in my ship that need filling, but we made it.” He sighed. Clarke smiled, wiping the blood off of her hands and onto the ruined and ripped up dress.

“I ruined your dress.” She laughed. Bellamy looked over at her and smiled.

“That’s the least of my worries.” He muttered.

“I guess I owe you an explanation, huh?” Clarke whispered, looking out on the horizon.

“You bet your ass you do. First you tell me everything, and then we deal with Finn.” He grumbled. Clarke stiffened at the name, knowing Bellamy was watching her closely. Clarke looked around, noting how everyone was too busy to listen or pay attention to her and Bellamy.

“As you know already, I’m the Crown Princess of Arc Kingdom. Clarke Griffin. I’m sure you’ve heard of me. I watched my father die, and in a search to find his killer I put myself into a prison camp. Walden, the worst of them all.” Clarke started. She took a shuddering breath, and then described what had happened in Walden, barely mentioning how she’d met Finn.

“After I escaped, when I thought Finn was dead, I was taken back to the castle where I was kept locked up until I healed enough to run away. That’s when I was shot, and then I bartered my way onto that cruise ship, until you came along.” Clarke chuckled darkly. With each description of her past, Bellamy tensed, and he looked ready to snap.

“You know the rest. Well, that’s my life story. It isn’t pretty.” Clarke concluded. She stayed frozen against the rail, waiting to see how Bellamy would respond. He was silent for a pregnant moment.

“At first I was angry that you’d kept something like that a secret from me, but now I understand. Clarke, I hate your family to my core, but what they did to you… that’s unforgivable.” He said softly. Clarke choked back a sob. Bellamy turned to face her, waiting until she met his gaze to continue.

“No one else can know who you are. My crew hates the royal court, and if they knew, I wouldn’t be able to promise your safety. But I want you to know, that I trust you. What happened to you, it’s unthinkable. I promise, we will get your revenge together, if you decide to stay.” Bellamy said, hope in his words. Clarke wiped away tears that had escaped and nodded.

“I’d like to stay.” She cried with a smile. Bellamy ducked his head and smiled back. Clarke had never been forgiven before, she hadn’t been accepted in a long time. Her past tended to scare people, even her own mother was afraid of her. Her only friend had abandoned her once he had learned what she’d done to survive, but here was Bellamy accepting her and her scars willingly. Bellamy placed his hand over Clarke’s small shaking one in comfort, and the two felt a bond being formed. One that would last a long time and run deep. Clarke had not trusted anyone in a long time, and didn’t know if she still could, but somehow Bellamy was breaking down her barriers and earning her trust.

“Clarke!” A familiar voice rang, ruining the moment between Clarke and Bellamy. The captain saw the hard shell return over the princess as Finn approached, Raven right on his heels.

“Clarke! We need to talk!” Finn implored. Clarke glared at him and shook her head.

“I have nothing to say to you, Finn.” She spat.

“You need to know, I didn’t want to do it! I had to get out of there, and betraying you was my only chance at getting out.” Finn said, reaching for Clarke’s hands. Clarke pulled back, and pushed as far back against the railing as she could. Bellamy loomed over her, stopping Finn from coming any closer.

“All of you, in my quarters. Now.” Bellamy growled. Finn scowled, but walked down to the Captain’s quarters. Bellamy pulled Miller aside and told him to take over while he dealt with Finn.

“You okay, Princess?” Bellamy asked, his nickname having a deeper meaning now. Clarke shook her head.

“I will be.” She muttered.

 

“Now, what’s going to happen, is Clarke is going to tell me what you did, and then you get to try and defend yourself.” Bellamy said. He was sitting in his ornate desk chair, hand folded across his chest. He’d taken off the overcoat and was wearing only a thin white cotton shirt and his slacks. Clarke wasn’t better off. She had a pair of skinny leggings and the remains of her dress, which was covered in blood. Finn was standing in front of the desk, frowning. Raven was there as well, standing right next to Finn, her hand in his.

“Bellamy, I don’t-“ Clarke started, looking at Raven nervously. She liked the girl, and felt a kindred spirit with her, but based on the intimacy between her and Finn, Clarke knew Raven wouldn’t like her story.

“You have to.” Bellamy interrupted. Clarke clenched her jaw, and reluctantly began to recant what had happened after she’d met Finn in the camp.

“I knew him as Finnly. Not very creative. But since I was not supposed to be in Walden, my mother had sent him in to get me out discreetly. Only there was a catch. We couldn’t escape quickly. Finn came to me and befriended me in that hellhole, convincing me he was on my side. We had planned to kill two of the guards and take their uniforms to get out, but after a spending time together we-we grew close.” Clarke said slowly. She glanced at Raven, seeing the girl let go of Finn’s hand.

“Finn was the only one who had treated me like a human being, but when it came to killing the guards, he chickened out. He stabbed me instead, saying he was bribed. Said someone had bribed him to kill me so he could get transferred to a different camp, a better one.” Clarke spat, she unconsciously brought her hand up to rub one of the many scars littering her body. Bellamy clenched his fists, and Raven took a step back from Finn.

“After he betrayed me, one of the guards injected him with something, making him have a seizure. I’d thought they’d killed him, but I guess I was wrong. I passed out from blood loss and woke up back in the pa-my home. That’s it.” The Princess crossed her arms and glared at Finn.

“Finn, do you have anything to say for yourself?” Bellamy glowered.

“You don’t understand, Captain. It was worse than hell in Walden. I didn’t know what I was getting into. After Raven and I were captured, someone told me to get the blonde out of Walden and I’d be free. But the months I spent there…it changes you. Survival instincts kick in.” Finn stuttered.

“So you resorted to seducing an innocent young girl and manipulating her? When you and Raven were already together? You decided that instead of maintaining your honor in your darkest hour to betray Clarke and kill her?” Bellamy asked outraged. Raven smacked Finn, and glared at Clarke. Finn rubbed his red cheek, having enough dignity to looked ashamed.

“She’s not innocent. I heard stories of what she’s done. She killed guards and prisoners. She’s not innocent. None of us are.” Finn said darkly.

“Leave me. All of you. I need to think. Clarke, get Octavia and have her stay with you tonight. Finn, stay away from Clarke. Raven, try not to kill anyone. Dismissed!” Bellamy ordered. Finn scowled and stormed out of the cabin. Raven was next, and Clarke slowly walked out, leaving Bellamy alone in the dark cabin with his thoughts. She wandered around for a bit, going around to check back up on the wounded and reapply more herbs.

“Hey, Clarke, right?” Raven called. Clarke looked over at the dark woman standing right outside the med bay.

“Yea?” She asked nervously.

“I don’t blame you. For what happened with Finn. But I don’t- I don’t know how I feel just yet.” Raven stammered. She left as soon as the words left her mouth, leaving Clarke alone again. She finished up in the med bay, then wandered around the ship in search of Octavia. After searching for a few minutes, Clarke decided to just go to her cabin alone. Bellamy’s door was closed, but light was shining through the cracks. Clarke hoped she could trust the pirate captain. She didn’t have any other choice.

“Ouch.” Clarke hissed. Her wound throbbed and some new bruises and cuts were forming. The exhausted girl pulled off her ruined clothes and stepped into a clean shirt, not bothering to put on pants. She pulled back her quilt and crawled into bed with a content sigh, falling asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW! That's a long one. I hope you enjoyed it, and if I messed up somewhere let me know! I hope FInn's intro wasn't weird and a good surprise.


	6. Chapter 6

Clarke woke up with a muffled groan. She was lying face-first in her pillow, and her body ached terribly.

“Wakey wakey.” A voice said jokingly. Clarke jerked up, ignoring the pangs of protest her body made at the movement.

“Oh, hey Jasper. What are you doing in here?” Clarke asked, relieved it was only Jasper and not someone else. He was sitting on the floor at the foot of her bed, and stood up when she woke.

“I was told to watch you, and wake you up.” He replied.

“What do you mean, watch me?” Clarke asked him. She threw the covers of her bed aside and slowly inched her way off the creaky mattress. She shuffled over to her cabinet and grabbed out some pants and a cotton shirt.

“Octavia was worried about you, and she said Bell said something about you, I’m not sure. I just do what I’m told.” Jasper explained, turning his back to Clarke so she could change. She grunted in response and pulled on fresh clothes. She pulled Jasper along with her out of the room, after grabbing her med kit so she could check up on the wounded from the battle. She walked briskly through the halls to the med bay, but was stopped when Jasper grabbed her arm.

“Captain says he wanted to talk to you the moment you woke up.” Jasper said to the blonde.

“He can wait, I’ve got patients to check.” She said sternly. Jasper sighed, readjusted his goggles, and relented. He could tell there was no way to sway Clarke, and he could always say something to the Captain about her waking up late or something. Clarke resumed her quick pace and pushed the doors of the med bay open. She took stock of the occupied cots, and saw Monty and Raven giving the wounded some water and bread. The two looked up at her entrance, and Monty smiled, giving her a small wave. Raven just nodded at the healer and then resumed her activity.

“Hey Monty. Everything good so far?” She asked, putting her med kit on a stray table.

“I think so. Nobody’s died yet, so that’s a plus.” He said. Jasper chuckled, and walked over to his friend, putting his fist out for a fist bump-which Monty completed.

“That’s always nice to hear.” Clarke muttered. She pushed up her sleeves and went around, checking bandages and temperatures. At this point, she had to be careful to avoid any sickness or infections, since all of the wounded would be especially vulnerable since they’d lost so many fluids.

“Monty, can you mix up this herb into the water, then boil it and start to feed it to the wounded? It should combat any infections and help out their immune systems.” Clarke said, handing Monty a bag of green leaves from her med kit. He nodded and took the herbs with him out of the med bay to boil them in the kitchens, Jasper following him. Jasper glanced at the two girls, who nodded for him to leave. Clarke realized just then that she was now alone with Raven. The girl who had been in a relationship with the man she’d slept with in prison. Great.  
Raven silently helped Clarke change bandages and feed those who couldn’t feed themselves due to their injuries. Raven looked like she was about to speak when Monty barged back in, the Captain hot on his heels. Jasper was nowhere to be seen, so she assumed he had jumped ship when Bellamy had found him.

“What are you doing here?” Bellamy asked sternly.

“I’m taking care of my patients, Captain.” Clarke snarled. Bellamy rolled his eyes, but Clarke could see he was secretly happy she had thought to take care of the crew.

“You were supposed to come see me when you woke up.” Bellamy said, as he walked around and giving encouraging nods and pats to the wounded.

“Yes, but this is more important than whatever you have to say right now.”

“More important than my decision about what to do with you and Finn?” Bellamy said softly. Raven stiffened at his words, but stayed silent. Monty looked extremely uncomfortable.

“Give me ten more minutes. I’m almost done.” Clarke said through clenched teeth. Bellamy sighed, but relented.

“Come to my cabin when you’re done, Princess.” He growled out, stalking out of the room, leaving the rest in an awkward silence.

“I’m gonna take a guess and say ‘Princess’ is the Captain’s pet name for you? Cause otherwise that’s just plain weird.” Raven chuckled, breaking the tension.

“It’s a long story.” Clarke said with a smile. She knew that Raven could be a great friend, if they dealt with Finn. The rest of Clarke’s time in the med bay passed mostly in silence, the three of them only speaking when passing instructions or asking Clarke a question about something medical.

“Into the lion’s den I go.” Clarke muttered after finishing everything she possibly could in the med bay.

“I wish you luck.” Raven said with a mock-salute. Clarke smiled, and left the med bay. She leaned against the closed doors behind her and took a deep breath. So she had told Bellamy everything last night. No big deal. It wasn’t like he could sell her out and give her back to her mother or anything. Clarke shook those thoughts out of her head, reminding herself that Bellamy wasn’t Finn, and that the Captain had some sort of honor code.  
Steeling herself for the worst, the nervous blonde made her way up to the Captain’s quarters. She maneuvered around busy crewmembers making emergency repairs to the ship, receiving smiles and congratulatory waves and pats. Confused, she knocked on the Captain’s door.

“Come in.” Bellamy’s muffled voice called. Clarke obeyed and slowly opened the door, cautiously entering the cabin. Inside she saw Finn leaning against the desk, anger clearly etched into his features. He had cleaned up, and was wearing fresh clothes and trimmed his hair. The stark difference between the man she saw now and the man she’d known in Walden made Clarke choke down bile.

“You wanted to see me?” She asked. Bellamy nodded, and gestured for her to close the door, which she did reluctantly. Finn looked over at her, and scowled. Clarke clenched her fist, her nails digging into her palm.  
“I have come to a decision about you two.” Bellamy said after a pregnant pause.

“I have thought it through, and come to a conclusion. Finn is a great fighter, and has been with us for a while, but my ship is full of fighters. What we do not have is a healer, at least not until recently. Clarke is a good healer, and she’s been taking care of those who were injured yesterday while you’ve been moping around and pouting, Finn.” Bellamy paused, and took a deep breath.

“When we dock to make repairs, you are to take your shit and leave. I don’t have room on my ship for traitorous disloyal scum.” Bellamy growled out. Clarke froze, her eyes wide with shock. Did Bellamy really just pick her over Finn?

“What the hell, Captain?” Finn burst, slamming his fist on the desk.

“I’ve been told that in a few short hours we’ll be docked at Port Royal, and I expect you to be off my ship.” Bellamy said calmly.

“Bellamy, are you sure? I mean, he’s one of you. I can manage myself-“ Clarke started, only to be interrupted by the Captain.

“This isn’t just about what he did to you, Clarke. This is also about how he didn’t stand with his crew in Washington and was content to just leave them locked up in those dirty rotten cells.” Bellamy growled. Finn looked increasingly uncomfortable, and Clarke fidgeted nervously.

“But Captain, I was just-“

“Looking after yourself instead of your people. We stay together and we fight together, Finn. Or did you forget that?”  
Finn had the decency to look ashamed.

“In a few hours we’ll be at Port Royal, where we will make quick repairs and resupply. I expect you to be off my ship when we dock, Finn.” Bellamy concluded. Clarke was wide-eyed in shock. It would’ve been simpler to just kick her out and keep the close friend who obviously had been with Bellamy and the rest of the crew for much longer.

“This is insane. You can’t blame me for what I did. You do not understand what it was like in there. I had to get out!” Finn protested. His anger kept bubbling, and Clarke was afraid of what might happen if he burst. She’d seen what Finn could do when he was weak and starved in Walden, and she didn’t want to find out what he could do when he was almost at full strength.

“We stick together no matter what. I need a healer, and that healer just so happens to be the girl you tried to kill for your own sake. Therefore I can’t have you on board. Simple.” Bellamy said tiredly. He rubbed his temple with his left hand and sighed.

“You don’t even know who she is. If you knew you wouldn’t be protecting her!” Finn exploded. He glared at Clarke, but she could’ve sworn she saw a glint of triumph in his eyes.

“I know, Finn. Just get your shit and leave. You’re dismissed.” Bellamy ordered. Finn balked, and stood in silence for a moment. Then he scoffed and stormed out of the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him angrily. Clarke rubbed her hands together nervously, unsure how to react.

“Umm, thanks? I didn’t think you’d do…that.” Clarke said softly. After years of being second choice and betrayed she was not used to someone being on her side.

“It’s nothing, Princess. Just taking out the trash.” Bellamy sighed. He looked exhausted.

“When was the last time you slept?” Clarke asked, her dominating healer side coming out.

“Who knows? Before the battle I think.” He muttered.  
“Bellamy, you need to sleep. Get a few hours of rest until we make port, I’ll tell Miller to handle everything and I’ll be busy taking care of the wounded. Just get some sleep, doctor’s orders.” Clarke said with a smile. Bellamy grumbled, muttering about all the work he had to get done under his breath. Clarke pushed him over to the adjacent room where his bed was and swept him inside, closing the door behind him.

“Just sleep! I’ll send someone to wake you when we’re close.” Clarke said through the door. She heard a grunt, and then a soft thud, which she assumed was Bellamy falling onto his bed. She shook her head and bit back a smile. She was staying on the ship. She could stay with Octavia and Monty and Jasper and all of the crew. It was hard to repress the urge to jump up in the air and shout for joy.  
When Clarke left the cabin, she found Miller and told him that Bellamy was taking a nap and he was in charge until they were close to Port Royal. Many of the crewmembers were hanging off the side of the ship to patch up a few major holes and cracks in the hull of the ship and the rest of the crew were restocking supplies and counting what they would need when they reached the port. Clarke didn’t see Finn on her way back down to the med-bay, and she was glad. She hoped he wouldn’t do anything stupid when they reached Port Royal.

Monty was still in the med-bay, but Raven was nowhere to be seen. The blonde healer didn’t want to think about where the rowdy mechanic was, so she focused on showing Monty the basics of trauma treatment and patching up the crew. While she was healing those wounded in the battle, some other crewmembers stopped in to treat sprains or broken bones or mild cuts and scrapes from fixing the ship, or from previous injuries. Clarke was shocked at how little care the crew had seen, and was kept busy treating most of the crew on the ship.

“Hey Monty? Can you hand me the bright yellow herb in my bag as well as some rosemary?” Clarke called out. Moments later a hand appeared next to her with the requested items. She grabbed the bags, and muttered thanks. One of the crewmembers, James, had a bad infection from the prison. Clarke assumed based on the symptoms, ragged breathing and chest pain, that it was a mild respiratory infection and she was brewing a tea of antibiotics and remedies to treat it. The rosemary would be for flavor since the yellow herb was very bitter.

“Alright, James, drink this. It’ll taste pretty bad but if you take it twice a day for a week or two the infection should pass. Come by every morning and evening for the tea.” Clarke told her patient, handing him a warm mug of herbal tea.

“Thanks, Clarke.” James said with a bright smile. He chugged down the tea with a grimace and handed her the mug. Then he walked over to see his friend Jess, who had been severely wounded in the fight and was lying on a cot unconscious. He grabbed her hand and rubbed it comfortingly, making Clarke look away at the intimacy of the action. She remembered how Finn had treated her like that in Walden, and she pushed down the pain in her heart.

“Clarke! Miller told me to come get you! We’re close to Port Royal.” Jasper called, running into the med-bay. Clarke looked up in surprise. She hadn’t known the time had flown by so fast. Clarke finished up a few chores and treatments, then left Jasper and Monty in the med-bay. She had a feeling that the two best friends would do something stupid in her med-bay, but she trusted Monty to try and keep the patients alive. She quickly ran to her cabin to change into something suitable for walking around Port Royal, and quickly changed into a simple white cotton shirt with billowing sleeves that ended at her forearm and a navy blue skirt with a black corset holding it all together.

Clarke jogged up the steps to the upper deck, smiling when the sunlight warmed her skin. She would never tire of seeing the bright blue sky or feeling the warmth of the sun after being deprived of it for so long.

“Clarke!” Miller called. She turned to see him and the Captain standing at the helm, both looking nervous.

“What’s wrong?” Clarke asked when she reached the helm.

“There’s quite a few guard ships docked at the port.” Bellamy said. He had changed into a dark blue tunic and black trousers with his tall tan boots. He wore a crimson overcoat, and the hat she’d seen in his cabin. It was all sweeping curves and lines, with bright colored feathers sticking out the back. It would’ve looked ridiculous on anyone else, but Bellamy made it work somehow. Clarke frowned and looked out to the port in the distance. She could see the flags sporting royal colors from a majority of the ships in the harbor.

“They must’ve heard about the prison break. Since this is so close to Washington they probably added more guards to look for fugitives.” Clarke said. Bellamy frowned, and glared at the ships as if his menacing gaze could make them disappear.

“Miller, find the rescued crew and tell them to stay below. Our story is that we’re merchants who were attacked by pirates and narrowly escaped, got it?” Bellamy said to his second. Miller nodded, and climbed down to spread the word.

“I need to go into the market to resupply my medicinal herbs and get more medicine and gauze. Some of the crew are in bad shape.” Clarke said to the Captain, her mind flashing back to Jess.

“Do you really think you can walk through the market? Many of the citizens probably haven’t seen the Royal Family, but some of the guards might recognize you.” Bellamy said. It was true, the majority of the kingdom would not know what the Crown Princess looked like, but based on the large number of guards, there would probably be high ranking officers patrolling Port Royal. Those with a high rank might know who Clarke was, and could blow her cover and take her back.

“I’m going down there, whether you like it or not.” Clarke spat. Bellamy looked over at her, his gaze sweeping up and down her body. He raised an eyebrow at her dress, but said nothing.

“You’ll stay with Miller and Monty. From what I hear you’ve been training him to be your assistant.” Bellamy said with a chuckle.

“I can go by myself. Monty needs to stay with the wounded in case anything happens while I’m gone. And you need Miller with you to resupply. I know what I’m doing, Bellamy.” She implored.

“Fine, Monty can stay, but take Murphy with you then. You aren’t going alone, Princess.” Bellamy argued. Clarke scowled, but didn’t argue with the Captain.

“Captain! We’re ready!” Miller called out. He had a party of some of the crew to spread out and buy all of the supplies they needed as quickly as possible. Although they could pass as a merchant ship, if some of the guards came aboard they would figure out they were actually pirates.

“Raven!” Bellamy shouted, waiting for the fierce woman to show herself.

“Whatcha need, Captain?” Raven replied, stepping out from some of the crew and joining Clarke and Bellamy at the helm.

“What’s the damage?” Bellamy asked.

“Well you haven’t taken good care of my ship while I was gone. There’s a few old cracks in the hull that need patching, and we’ll need to patch up the mainsail, it looks like a few cannons shot through it. There’s a hole in one of the masts, and chips all over. I’d say it’s a long days work just to keep her from sinking. We’ll have to stay at the port at least until nightfall so we can get her fixed up enough to make it to open ocean. After that, I should be able to fix up the rest while we’re at sea.” The mechanic rambled. Bellamy grimaced at the long list of repairs, but nodded. He instructed Raven to go ashore, even though she was a fugitive. They would have to risk it in order to get the proper supplies for repairs, which Raven knew best.

“Try not to blow anything up.” Bellamy said with a smile to the mechanic, who smiled back at the Captain before descending to the deck.

“I’ll get my bag and I guess I’ll grab Murphy.” Clarke said to Bellamy, making her way back to the deck.

“Princess!” Bellamy called. Clarke looked back at the intimidating silhouette of her Captain. He looked regal and dangerous with the sun shining behind him, casting a shadow over his form.

“Don’t do anything stupid. I need my healer.” He said dismissingly. Clarke smirked and replied, “Aye, aye, Captain.”

 

 

“Where are we going now?” Murphy grumbled. He was not happy to find out that he was Clarke’s escort, and after seeing him stare longingly at the few brothels they’d passed, Clarke was not happy to have his company either.

“I need more bandages.” Clarke replied, for the thousandth time. Murphy gazed at a restaurant with hungry eyes, and then at a stand that sold caramel apples. Clarke rolled her eyes. She’d been shopping with Murphy for an hour now, and only needed a few more items before she could head back to the ship. Bellamy had instructed the crew to be back before nightfall, and Clarke was not planning on staying in the market any longer than she had to. Guards prowled the streets of Port Royal, and Clarke had seen a few familiar faces of high-ranking officers. She wondered if the new Captain of the Guard was around, but hoped not. Wells wouldn’t understand why she had to leave, despite their close friendship.

“Murphy, if you want to go fuck some cheap, diseased whores, go ahead. I can manage.” Clarke snapped, after having to drag her companion away from another dark corner where another prostitute stood seductively against the alley wall.

“You sure?” Murphy asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Positive. Just meet me by the ship. What the Captain doesn’t know won’t hurt him.” Clarke said with a heavy sigh. She’d be able to move faster without her “guard” anyway. Murphy nodded, then disappeared into the crowd. Clarke couldn’t blame the man for wanting to sate his lust. Sailing the seas as a pirate did not leave a lot of opportunity for sex, since many of the female crewmembers were too proud to fuck a pirate like Murphy. Humming an old castle tune, Clarke meandered around the marketplace, grabbing some fruit and herbs from street vendors. She visited a healer’s hut and bought more herbs and supplies, finishing the list of things she needed. On her way back to the ship, about forty-five minutes after Murphy left her, Clarke stopped at a weapons shop. In the window were some fantastic rapiers, and the curious blonde wandered inside. After borrowing practice swords and other old swords that had been laying around for practice, the Princess wanted a weapons she could call her own. Octavia said Clarke had decent sword fighting skills, but still needed some work. She still couldn’t last longer than a few minutes in a duel with the Captain, but one day Clarke would beat the smug bastard.

“Hello little lady. Wanting a weapon I see?” An old voice croaked. Clarke jumped at the sound. She’d been distracted by some of the gear inside the small shop. There were oils that guaranteed a sharper blade and bejeweled scabbards.

“I’m just looking for a blade to call my own.” Clarke replied. The shopkeeper was sitting behind a display case full of weapons. He had barely any hair on the sides of his wrinkled head, and his face was a mess of scars. One of his eyes was concealed by a nasty scar, and the other observed the princess with intelligent understanding. He was a burly man, but most of his musculature was diminished from age. Clarke could tell he had been a fierce warrior in his prime, and probably still had a battle or two in him still.

“I know what you need. Come.” He croaked. His voice was hoarse, as if he hadn’t used it often and wasn’t used to speaking.

“You have a beautiful shop.” Clarke complimented, following the man further into the store. He pushed back a curtain and stormed into a back room, waving his hand for Clarke to follow. Although she hadn’t known the man for more than a few minutes, Clarke felt a kindred spirit with him. Both he and she had been through many terrible traumas and had come out with a few scars.

“I just need a sharp blade to fight with. Nothing too fancy.” Clarke said. The shopkeeper grunted, a deep rumbling sound.

“I know what you need.” He repeated. He opened up a cabinet that held many gorgeous blades, concealed by their scabbards. The shopkeeper grabbed one of the medium sized ones, and balanced it on the tip of his finger. He nodded and handed the blade over to Clarke. She grabbed the blade, surprised at its lightness. She twisted it around in her hand, testing the balance and grip.

“May I?” She asked. The shopkeeper grunted again and nodded. Clarke gripped the golden hilt of the sword, eyeing the sapphire at the end of it. A golden curve of metal twined around the hilt, connecting the cross guard to the end of the hilt and shielding the wielder’s hand in a web of gold.  
Clarke pulled the blade free from its scabbard, a simple navy blue color with golden accents, and gasped in awe. It was a flawless silver blade, and looked incredibly sharp. The metal was cool to the touch, and seemed to hum in excitement at her touch. The blade tapered off at the end and curved slightly, barely enough to notice. Twisting filigree decorated the blade, and it looked as if the waters of the raging ocean had been turned to metal and forged into a sword.

“What metal is this? It’s too light to be steel, but still has its strength.” Clarke asked breathlessly.

“It’s rare. It’s known as Ookeanos in the language of the tribe that mines it. It comes from across the world, and the clan that makes these swords mine the best of the Ookeanos and spend years creating a single sword.” The shopkeeper said. Clarke smiled in awe.

“It is said that Ookeanos is the ocean made into metal. The pattern in the blade is the metal itself.” The shopkeeper said in a rumble.

“I can’t possibly take this from you.” Clarke said with a sad sigh. No doubt the sword was extremely expensive, and Clarke barely had a coin purse of Silvings left.

“Take it. You need it more than the lord who would come in here to have it as decoration. This blade needs to taste battle.” The shopkeeper said, leading Clarke back out into the front of the shop.

“The rebel princess of Arc Kingdom needs this blade to restore balance and destroy the corruption in the capitol.” The shopkeeper said quietly. He looked at Clarke with an understanding only someone who had been in Walden could have.

“I was a palace guard once, and I was lucky enough to be a guard to the Princess when she was little. I recognize you, my Lady.” He whispered. Clarke was stunned. She thanked the man for not saying anything, and promised to purify the corruption in the kingdom, but she still could not take the sword.

“You can’t possibly expect me to just take a blade like this!” Clarke exclaimed. It was worth a fortune! The shopkeeper just grunted, pushing the outraged blonde out of his shop. He handed her a fingerless glove and some oil and a whetstone and a belt to strap the sword to. Clarke, aghast at the shopkeeper’s kindness, hastily pulled a handful of coins from her purse, holding it out to the shopkeeper.

“Take this! It’s not nearly enough, but I can’t just take this blade.” Clarke implored. She held the sheathed sword tightly to her chest, and readjusted the bag of supplies on her shoulder. The shopkeeper grunted, and begrudgingly took the coins she offered.

“Go. Fight with it.” He grumbled.

“What’s its name?” Clarke asked quickly. The man smiled, and muttered out the name of the sword, which was engraved on the blade in the language of the land it had come from. It was a perfect name for a perfect sword. It meant “the heart of the sea” in the Old Language, and the familiar sound danced across Clarke’s tongue.

“Inima Mare.” She repeated, the “ehy” sound of the last word a breath of sea breeze on her tongue.

 

Humming and practically skipping in happiness, Clarke patted the sword dangling from her hip in contentment. It was nearly dark, and she was almost to the ship. She spotted Murphy hanging around near the docks, and waved to the grumpy man.

“What took you so long?” He asked angrily.

“I got distracted.” She replied with a smile. Murphy just rolled his eyes, and walked down to the ship beside her. They climbed up the gangplank and onto the busy ship. Raven and many others were running around, carrying various woods or pastes to repair the ship. The light of the sun lowering on the horizon cast a golden sheen on the ship, which matched the joyful feeling in Clarke’s heart. She had a kickass sword and was resupplied and had a place to call home.

“Captain! We’ve returned!” Murphy called out to the Captain, who was standing at the helm with Miller. He waved at them, and gestured for Murphy to join him. Clarke went down to her cabin to drop off her new sword before going to the med-bay to check on her patients and restock the medicinal supplies. She couldn’t wait to show her new sword to Octavia, and to see the look on Bellamy’s face when he saw the magnificent blade.

“Clarke! You’re needed on the docks.” Murphy called through her door. Clarke furrowed her brow in confusion. She was needed in the med-bay, not the docks. Rolling her eyes in annoyance, Clarke abandoned the bag of supplies on her bed and stormed out of her cabin. Murphy smirked, and bowed in a way that came off sarcastic. With another scoff, she hurried up to the deck, and danced around the hustle and bustle of the crew. Bellamy was still at the helm, in deep discussion with some of the crew. Raven passed Clarke and said a breathy greeting before being dragged away again. The sun was almost below the horizon now, and the sky was alight in the reds and pinks of the sunset. After stepping off the gangplank, Clarke called out to see what she was needed for. A voice answered her call from the dark corner of the dock.

“Over here! Someone’s been injured!” The voice yelled. Clarke hurried toward the sound, her face a mix of concern and confusion. If someone had been injured, why not take them to the med-bay where she had the supplies to heal?

“Hello? Who’s been hurt?” She asked into the darkness.

“I knew you couldn’t resist. You’re too good to leave someone to die.” A familiar voice laughed from behind her. Clarke whirled around, her hand unconsciously moving to where her new sword should’ve been. Shit, she thought.

“You’re mother wants you home, Clarke.” Finn said, emerging from the darkness of the dock with a wicked grin. The panicked princess turned to run, and maybe find something to use as a weapon, but pain erupted at the back of her head and the world went dark. 

 

“Octavia! Have you seen Clarke? I need her help at the med-bay.” Monty asked. Octavia tilted her head in uncertainty and shook her head in reply.

“Shit. Where is she? I heard she was back.” Monty cursed. Octavia feared for her friend’s safety, and went to confront her brother.  
“Bell! Have you seen Clarke?” She shouted at him, Monty hot on her heels.

“She went down below deck after getting back with Murphy.” He replied, turning back to his work. Blueprints of the ship and maps were laid out before him with notations made in the margins.

“She’s not here.” Octavia said urgently. Bellamy froze, and turned to his sister.

“What do you mean she isn’t here?” He asked darkly.

“I mean, Monty says she hasn’t been to the med-bay yet. Which isn’t like Clarke. She practically lives there nowadays.” Octavia stated. Bellamy’s jaw clenched.

“Raven!” He called out. The mechanic turned to him with an annoyed glare.

“When did Finn leave?” He asked.

“About an hour ago, why?” She asked. Bellamy just cursed in response.

“Murphy!” He bellowed, storming down to find the deceitful crewmember.

“Yes, Cap’n?” Murphy replied with a mock-salute. He was drinking some rum from a near empty bottle and laughing with a few of his cronies.

“Where’s Clarke?” Bellamy growled. He had a sinking suspicion of her fate, but didn’t want to jump to conclusions.

“I’m sure that Finn’s taking her home by now.” He chuckled, swaying drunkenly from side to side. Bellamy swung his fist at Murphy, knocking the drunk down with a cry.

“What the fuck?” Murphy shouted. Bellamy kneeled down and pulled him up by his collar, holding him up off the ground by his shirt.

“What did you do?” He asked darkly.

“Nothin’! I jusht told her she was needed on the dock, whish ish true! Finn wanted her off the ship and I got ‘er off the shhhip! For a price of coursh’e.” Murphy slurred, spitting out blood from his split lip.

“Where?” Bellamy growled, shaking the drunk in his grasp.

“He shaid shomethin’ about the guard posht in the middle of the harbor.” Murphy stuttered. Bellamy threw the drunk down onto the deck, and stormed over to his cabin. He slammed the door open, Octavia, Raven, and Miller close behind him.  
Fuming, Bellamy grabbed two of his pistols and strapped a dagger in his boot. He straightened his sword and stomped out of his cabin.

“Bellamy! What are you doing?” Octavia exclaimed, grabbing her brother’s shoulder.

“I’m going to get her back.” He replied simply.

“What did Murphy mean when he said Finn was taking her home?” Raven asked. Bellamy sighed in exasperation. Raven was smart, and she knew Clarke was important somehow.

“You don’t understand. Her mother was the one that left her in Walden for a year.” Bellamy blurted angrily. Octave dropped her hand from her brother’s shoulder in shock, her shoulders sagging. Miller’s eyes widened, Monty gasped, and Raven huffed.

“Walden? Like, the camp Walden?” Octavia asked in astonishment. Bellamy nodded.

“And Finn, who met her in W-Walden, is going to take her back to the mother that let her rot in that hellhole?” Raven said in disgust. Bellamy growled in response. Miller grabbed Monroe, who was busy shouting orders to the crew. He muttered out instructions, and Monroe nodded obediently.

“Captain, I told Monroe to handle the ship.” Miller said. Bellamy glared at his first officer, and shook his head.

“You need backup, and I’m not going to leave Clarke alone.” Miller stated. Bellamy looked at Miller in surprise. He hadn’t known his first officer had felt so protective of their new healer.

“I’m going too. Finn’s my problem.” Raven commanded, leaving no room for any argument.

“Fine. Miller, Raven, and I will go rescue Clarke and Monty will look after the wounded until we get back. Octavia, keep everyone calm.” Bellamy ordered. Raven nodded, and ran down to grab her sword and a few throwing knives before joining Bellamy and Miller at the docks.

“What’s the plan, Captain?” She asked when she joined the two men.

“We get in, we grab Clarke, we get out.” He replied. Raven nodded, liking the simplicity of it. Together, the trio “borrowed” a small sailing ship and made their way across the harbor to the guard tower in the middle of the bay, where a few guard ships were anchored. The tower was a simple wooden structure built on a dock separate from the rest of the port, and the tower was where Clarke was.

 

Groaning, Clarke sat up, and rubbed at her aching head. Or she tried to, at least. Her arms were bound behind her back and from what she could tell, her legs were bound together as well. Clarke tried to see where she was, but she was encased in darkness.

“I was wondering when you’d wake up.” Finn said, his voice echoing in the dark. Clarke could feel the roll of the ocean beneath her, and heard the creak of heavy footsteps on wood from above and she knew she was in the belly of a ship.

“What do you want, Finn?” She growled out. Light blinded her for a minute, and when her vision adjusted to the glow of a bright lantern, Clarke saw Finn sitting across from her, a sick smile on his face. She saw some barrels and crates around the small room. Clarke guessed she was in a small supply closet in a ship.

“I’m going to take you home. You’re mother paid me to, and now I’m finishing the job. I should get paid a pretty penny for bringing the lost princess back to her castle on a hill, and I’ll get a royal pardon.” Finn rambled. Clarke could see that being held in Walden and then Washington had broken this once strong man, and she was afraid. She slid her legs across the floor, and felt the rope catch on something. She wiggled around as slyly as she could, and felt a sharp rusty nail by her feet. She fidgeted, and passed off the movement of the nail cutting the rope as fearful tremors.

“Finn, you don’t have to do this.” She pleaded. She felt the snap of the first coil of rope break, and she tried to stall for time.

“But I do. It’s so cliché, but I have to do this, Clarke. I can’t go back. If I go back, I will die.” He whispered.

“I know, trust me I know. But this isn’t right!” She implored.

“What’s right anymore? Do you know what I had to do to survive? I loved you, but then I betrayed you to save myself! Who does that?” He exclaimed angrily. Clarke clenched her jaw at his confession, and tried to smile.

“Who we are, and who we need to be to survive are two different things.” She said slowly. She felt the rope binding her legs sag, and knew her legs were free.

She could improvise with the bindings on her wrists, but at least she could run now.

“This is why I love you, Clarke. But there’s no changing the past. I’m doing this for you! Your mother loves you, and wants you home! It’s what’s best for you!” He shouted with a wide smile. Clarke looked into Finn’s crazed eyes, the sorrowful lament of her soul reaching his.

“I won’t go back, Finn.” She cried, her voice shaking. “You don’t know what awaits me at the capitol.”  
Finn shook his head and frowned.

“How could I know? All I know is that to get away from Walden, I need to take you home. And that’s what I’m going to do.” He said, grabbing the lantern and turning his back to Clarke. He made to walk to the door, but Clarke rose from the ground silently and snuck up behind him without a sound.

“No, you’re not.” She growled angrily. She slammed her head into the back of his, and kicked at his knees, knocking him down. The lantern bounced against the floor with a loud clatter, and she swung her leg out to kick Finn’s head. She kicked him again and again until he lay still. Quietly, Clarke grabbed the lantern and smashed it against a barrel. The glass shattered, but the light stayed lit for now. Clarke turned and reached for a piece of the glass. She clumsily grabbed a shard, the glass biting into her skin. Using the shard, Clarke cut through the rope binding her wrists and went to the door. She listened for any noise, and after a few silent moments she slowly opened the door and peeked out into the hall.

Guessing from Finn’s goals and the colors decorating the walls, Clarke assumed she was on a guard ship. With a curse, she left the closet and quietly walked down the hall. She found the stairs that led to the deck, and as silent as the grave climbed up. Once she reached the deck, she saw how dark it was and that the sun had finally set. She had most likely been gone for about an hour, and judging by the lack of guards patrolling the deck, she assumed it was suppertime. One guard was whistling and drinking from a pouch in his tunic. Like a dark wraith, Clarke grabbed the lid of a barrel on the deck and used it to knock out the guard. He sunk like a sack of rocks, and Clarke rushed over to the railing. Dread filled her gut.

They were sailing away from a wooden tower surrounded by guard ships, and toward the open ocean. The fact that Clarke couldn’t swim weighed heavily on her mind.

She leaned her head against the railing with a curse and sighed. How the hell was she supposed to get off this boat? She heard a distant shout, and looked up to see a small sailing boat racing to the guard ship she was stuck on.

“Clarke!” A familiar voice called out.

“Raven?” Clarke shouted back in surprise. What were Raven, Miller, and Bellamy doing out in the harbor on that small boat? They waved at her and made strange gestures that Clarke couldn’t decipher because of the distance.

“Wha-“ She started, only to choke in pain. She looked down to see a dagger protruding from her gut, and the only though that crossed her mind was: not again.

“If I can’t take you back alive, then your corpse will do.” Finn whispered in her ear. He had snuck up behind her and stabbed her in the back, again. He pulled the dagger out, ripping away at Clarke’s flesh and hope.

She coughed up blood, and sagged against the railing. She could hear Bellamy shouting her name in the distance, and she looked out to see the other boat containing her friends only a few hundred feet away. Clarke pushed back from the railing, and sagged against Finn, who stroked her hair and murmured what he thought, were comforts. She groped around and felt for the sword at his hip. With a groan, she turned to face Finn, tears in her eyes.

“I loved you, you know. But not anymore.” She stuttered. Finn smiled gently down at her, not grasping Clarke’s meaning. She shoved away from him and pulled his sword with her. The last look on Finn’s face was shock as Clarke shoved the sword into his gut with a mournful cry. Choking, Finn fell against the deck, and reached out for Clarke, who collapsed next to him. She stroked his hair, like he did to her, and apologized over and over. Finn was choking on his own blood, and tears filled his eyes.

“It’s going to be okay. I’m sorry.” Clarke sobbed. Pain throbbed in her side, but Clarke grabbed the bloody dagger out of Finn’s grasp and used it to stab his heart and save him from the pain of drowning in his own blood.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” She chanted. The love she felt in her heart for the dead man in her arms died with him, and she pulled herself up against the railing. The ship was closer now, and Clarke climbed up onto the railing, crying out at the pain of moving. She looked back at Finn’s dead stare and sobbed again.

“May we meet again.” She whispered, letting go of the railing and falling into the sea. The cold hard impact knocked Clarke breathless. She knew that Bellamy and the others were too far away to reach her in time. They didn’t know she couldn’t swim, and they wouldn’t reach her in time to save her from drowning if they stayed in the sailing ship. Clarke knew she had too much to do to die in the ocean and be forgotten, but she had to try something. She struggled to reach the surface, kicking and throwing her arms up to no avail. Despite her efforts, Clarke sank down further into the unforgiving depth of the sea.

The salt water mixed with her tears, and Clarke felt her body going numb. She knew that the water was filling her lungs, and that the pain of her stab wound and of drowning were almost unbearable, but she was numb. Her mind and body had gone frozen, and the dark abyss of the sea dragged her down deeper and deeper into its cold depths.

 

 

“Clarke!” Raven shouted out as the blonde fell from the railing and into the sea with a loud splash. Miller and Bellamy watched the water where she’d disappeared anxiously. A few moments passed, and Bellamy stripped his coat and boots with a curse. He jumped up on the edge of the ship, preparing to dive in after Clarke.

“It’s been too long.” He muttered, and then he dove into the sea before his companions could stop him. Miller and Raven could only watch and wait for their Captain to appear, with or without Clarke. Raven was about to jump in after Bellamy when he burst to the surface with a gasp. In his arms was a bloody and frozen Clarke. Miller turned the ship to pass by him, and he and Raven pulled Clarke into the ship, and helped Bellamy climb in.

“She’s not breathing.” Miller said. Panting, Bellamy looked as scared as Raven had ever seen him, and she wondered who Clarke was to make the Captain react that way. She pushed Miller aside, and closed off the drowned girl’s nose and breathed into her mouth. She then pushed her hand against her chest, over and over for a few minutes, and then she pressed her mouth against Clarke’s and pushed air into the girl’s lungs. She repeated this process three times before Clarke shuddered and spat out water from her lungs, taking a gasping breath of air. She choked for a few breaths, and then when her breathing had evened out, her eyes fluttered open. Bellamy pushed Raven aside and placed his hands gently on either side of Clarke’s face, rubbing her cheek with his thumb and pushing away a few strands of hair from her face. Clarke panted, and gazed into the Captain’s eyes. There was a surprising intimacy between the Captain and the Princess that surprised all who were on the ship.

“Stay with me, Princess.” Bellamy murmured. He grabbed some cloth from a shirt on the ship that belonged to the owner and used it to put pressure on the wound in her side.

“It’s not that deep. You’ll be fine. How many times do I have to come to your rescue?” Bellamy chuckled, trying to make her laugh. Clarke’s lips formed a small smile, and her eyelids fluttered.

“Only until I’m not a damsel in distress.” She stuttered, before passing out again.

“Shit.” Bellamy cursed. He waved for Miller to hurry up and get them back to The 100, and for Raven to help him treat Clarke’s wound.

 

When they made it back to the ship, Monty hurried and ordered Octavia to grab some sutures and the antibiotic herb as well as the pain killer tea. Bellamy stayed in the med-bay right by Clarke’s side while Monty tried to use what little Clarke had taught him to heal her. After a few stressful hours, Monty declared the Princess saved, and said she was just unconscious from blood loss and shock. He then passed out on one of the empty cots in the med-bay and snored away.

Bellamy stayed next to Clarke, sitting in a creaky old chair he’d found. He couldn’t believe that he’d let this happen. He should have been there to protect her. She was the Crown Princess after all. It was his duty to protect her. Plus he’d let the man who’d betrayed her and tried to kill her kidnap her and stab her in front of him, which was a blow to Bellamy’s honor. He should have known better. She was the Princess, and he was supposed to protect her. He was just this worried because she was the princess, not because he cared for her or anything. She was just the princess, and he was a pirate king. He wasn’t friends with her, maybe partners in crime. Bellamy knew his feelings for the girl were not simply Captain and crewmate, but more friends. Maybe a knight protecting his princess. Bellamy scowled. He was no knight. He was a bloody pirate. He was nothing in her eyes. Just a partner in crime.  
Just a knight to his Princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this one! I hope it doesn't seem too rushed, but I needed Finn out of the story for the plot to develop. I made Finn a bit OC cause I thought being tortured in Walden would've changed him. I hope you liked it!
> 
> Reviews feed my soul. Please leave constructive comments!!!<3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Sorry for taking so long, I was off the grid for two terrible weeks -.-  
> But I'm back! And I have my laptop now!  
> Also, my username changed to an-upset-librarian to match my tumblr url!  
> Enjoy!

For the third day in a row, Clarke woke up with a pained groan. She really had to stop getting stabbed/shot. It wasn’t good for her health. She squinted when she opened her eyes at the bright light of the sun coming through her window, and rolled over so her back was to the light. Which turned out to be a terrible idea, since her wound screamed in pain at the movement. Clarke lifted her shirt up to look at the wound, which was actually not as bad as it felt. She could feel through the wrapping that someone had stitched it closed a bit clumsily, but the gauze was sufficiently wrapped around her waist. It was a deep wound, but small-not much to worry about. One more scar to add to her collection.

Hearing a snore from behind her, Clarke turned over again, and was surprised to see Bellamy sitting in the chair in the corner of her room. A smile lit her face, but she forced a frown onto her lips instead. She cautiously stepped out of her bed, ignoring the pains of protest her wounds made. She quickly threw on a pair of dark trousers and a light blue shirt, tying them together with a belt and silently crawled over to the chair where her Captain was sleeping. She cracked her knuckles, and her lips shaped into a sly grin. She lifted her right leg, and kicked at the legs of the chair Bellamy was sitting in. The leg her foot connected with broke off with a loud crack, and the now uneven chair collapsed, taking the Captain with it. Bellamy grunted in surprise and slid off the uneven chair and onto the floor.

Clarke chuckled at the look on his face. His eyes were wide open in astonishment, and his mouth formed an “O” of surprise. He looked up at her in confusion, and then understanding. It took him a while to realize that the injured princess had just kicked a chair out from under him. For fun.

“Did you just-“ He started. Clarke laughed, and nodded.

“It’s payback. For when you hung me off the ship.” She bit her lip to try and conceal her laughter. Holding out a hand for Bellamy to grab, she helped the fallen Captain up off the floor. His hand was warm, and surprisingly gentle for a pirate’s hand. Bellamy stretched and took a deep breath.

“Wait. You just got stabbed, and you almost drowned. You need to be in bed.” He commanded, pushing Clarke back towards her bed earnestly. Clarke rolled her eyes, and pushed the Captain’s worrisome hands away.

“I’m fine. It’s just a superficial wound. Not the worst I’ve been through.” Clarke coughed. Her throat was a bit dry, but she was still fine, despite the doubting look Bellamy gave her.

“You were unconscious for two hours, it looks like.” Bellamy said, looking out at the sunrise.

“I just need to keep my wound clean, and I’ll heal in no time.” Clarke said with a roll of her eyes. Bellamy scoffed, but relented.

“You are the healer.” He grumbled. Before Clarke could respond, her door flew open.

“Captain! Murphy’s trying to take the ship!” Monty panted. He was leaning against the open door, and there was a cut on his forehead, and a bruise under his eye. Bellamy darted past Monty and out of the room. Clarke quickly grabbed her new sword from its hiding place and checked with Monty to see if he was okay.

“You okay?” She asked him, eyeing the cut on his head.

“I’m fine. We need to worry about Murphy right now. He’s committing mutiny and he’s got Octavia. He’s been gathering support while you and the Captain were asleep and now he’s making his move.” Monty said, his eyes filled with fear. Clarke clenched her jaw, and ran out after Bellamy. If Octavia was in danger, there was no telling what Bellamy might do. He may be an ass half the time, but he really did love his sister.  
She heard shouting from above, and Clarke hurried up the steps and onto the deck. She ran right into a mass of bodies, and the shouting was louder. She heard the familiar sound of a sword being drawn, and the clang of two blades meeting in combat.

“Fuck this.” She muttered, pushing her way through the mass of people to the fight. Some of the crew sported bruises and cuts, and many had their swords drawn. Apparently a fight had occurred before she had gotten up on the deck, and now for some reason it had stopped.  
When she had finally made it to the front of the crew, she saw Bellamy snarling at Murphy. The two pirates were standing across from one another, and behind Murphy were about a dozen of the crew. Octavia was being held by two of Murphy’s cronies, who were looking like they regretted being on Murphy’s side.

“If you want you’re sister to stay as beautiful as she is, I suggest you lower your blade.” Murphy snarled. Bellamy bristled and his grip on his sword tightened. Clarke could see the turmoil within the Captain, and she knew he would sacrifice his ship and his crew for his sister. Cursing, Clarke grabbed a pair of daggers off of the nearest person. She took a deep breath, raised the blade in her hand, and threw it at one of the mutineers holding Octavia. Before the other could react, the second blade Clarke threw hit him in the throat. Both of the traitors fell to the deck, and Octavia ran towards the other side of the ship where Bellamy’s allies stood.

Bellamy lunged at Murphy with a war cry and Murphy barely raised his blade in time to block the blow. Bellamy feinted a swipe at Murphy’s midsection, and then slashed at his leg. Murphy cried out in pain, but stood his ground. Clarke could see the sweat dripping down Murphy’s face. She shoved through some more of the crew until she reached Octavia.

“Are you okay?” She asked the girl. Octavia nodded, but her focus was on the duel happening behind Clarke. Bellamy had Murphy on the defensive, and it was obvious that he was the better swordsman. Murphy’s cronies had abandoned him after seeing their leader’s inevitable loss, and the traitors were being tied up by Miller and some of the crew. Soon this mutiny would be settled, and Clarke had a feeling it would only end in bloodshed.

The clang of steel on steel drew her attention back to the duel, and Clarke saw Murphy desperately trying to hold back Bellamy’s blade, but he was no match for the angry Captain. With a curse, Bellamy pushed down on Murphy’s blade, and caused him to release his blade. The sword clattered against the deck, and Murphy fell to the floor and raised his arms in surrender, but Bellamy was poised for a fatal attack.

“Wait!” Clarke yelled, throwing herself in between Bellamy’s blade and Murphy. Bellamy froze, and growled at Clarke to get out of his way.

“We’re better than this. We don’t need to kill him.” She implored.

“Get out of the way, Princess. He’s going to get what he deserves, the traitorous bastard.” Bellamy spat. His gaze was not on the girl in front of him, but rather at the traitor behind her.

“I said no! You’re not a killer.” She shouted back. Clarke could see that she’d hit a nerve, and Bellamy slowly lowered his sword, finally meeting her gaze.

“He’s the one that sold you out to Finn. He’s traitorous scum that deserves to die. I should’ve killed him when I got back to the ship.” Bellamy argued. Clarke flinched when he mentioned Finn, and looked back at Murphy angrily. He was cursing and clutching his wounded leg, glancing up at the two arguing above him.

“Still. He doesn’t deserve to die. Nobody does.” Clarke pleaded. Bellamy cursed, and sheathed his blade.

“Then what do we do with him and the rest of his mutinous pals?” Bellamy questioned.

“Banish them. Take them to an uninhabited island and just leave them there. No supplies, no weapons, nothing.” Clarke suggested after a moment of hesitation. Bellamy stared at her intently for a minute, and eventually rolled his eyes in defeat.

“Fine. We’ll do it your way. Take these mutinous assholes to the brig. Set course for the nearest deserted island. We’ve got trash to throw out.” Bellamy ordered.

“Fuck that! I’m not going to be left to die on some island!” Murphy shouted. He pushed himself up and rushed at Clarke with his hand reaching for her throat. Clarke quickly drew her new sword and just pointed it at the man running at her, the tip of the blade nicking his Adam’s apple. Murphy froze, and swallowed nervously, making the tip of her blade cut into his skin. A small droplet of blood fell onto her blade, and Clarke swore she felt the sword purr in contentment.

“You are going to go to the brig and await your banishment, or be the first life my new blade shall take. You decide.” She said darkly, her blue eyes ice cold. Murphy stepped back, and let some of the crew grab him and roughly push him down to the brig along with his allies.

“Holy shit…” Clarke heard someone mutter. She smiled smugly. This was the perfect way to introduce her new blade. The swirling patterns on the blade danced in the morning sun, and the single drop of blood slowly dripped off the blade.

“When did you get that, Princess?” Bellamy whistled appreciatively, and Clarke sheathed her sword with a grin.

“I got it from a merchant in the market.” She replied.

“It fits you.” Bellamy stated, eyeing the sword and its wielder in awe. He turned to Miller, and together the two of them retreated into Bellamy’s cabin, talking about charts and supplies. The crew all came over to look at Clarke’s sword, and all of them thanked her and complimented her for how she handled the mutiny.

“Damn girl.” Raven said, patting Clarke on the back. Smiling, Clarke walked over to Octavia and put her hand on her shoulder.

“You okay?” She asked.

“I’m fine. You were amazing, Clarke! That’s such an amazing sword!” Octavia exclaimed with a giggle.

“It’s nothing. I’m just glad you are okay.” Clarke responded. Raven was drawn away by some of her fellow engineers to fix another leak in the ship, and Clarke took Octavia down to the infirmary to check her over just in case. Monty was already down there trying to treat some of the crew who were injured during the mutiny.

“Hey Monty, anything serious?” Clarke asked when she entered the room.

“Clarke! You are such a badass!” Monty shouted, pulling the princess into a hug. Stiffening, Clarke awkwardly patted Monty’s back and pulled away. With a wide smile, Monty filled Clarke in on the status of her patients and helped her treat some of the more serious cases from the battle at the prison. She started to feel a little dizzy, and the pain in her side increased, but Clarke ignored the symptoms and got to work.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Hmm. I think Morgan is getting an infection. This debris from the cannons at the prison could’ve introduced some sort of infectious agent into her system.” Clarke rambled to herself. She peeled back the bandages on Morgan’s chest, and inspected the discolored, pus-filled cuts.. Clarke had removed most of the shrapnel, but it was possible that there were still some pieces still inside some of her.

“All I can do right now is give her more antibiotics and try to remove the infected flesh, but that might not be enough.” Clarke bit her lip in frustration. She knew what to do to treat her, but she did not have access to the right materials to treat this serious of a wound. After applying fresh bandages and antibiotics, Clarke moved on to some of her other patients. Many of them were well enough to leave the infirmary, and the ones injured in the mutiny had minor stab wounds and slashes that were easily treated by her and Monty.

During the hustle and bustle of checking on patients, Octavia had disappeared. Clarke wanted to go look for the girl, but her own wound was throbbing and Morgan needed constant attention and had to be quarantined away from the other patients. The infection was damaging the strength of Morgan’s immune system, leaving her vulnerable to sicknesses, which could infect the other patients.

She rubbed her temple tiredly. She’d dismissed Monty from his assistant duties earlier so he could rest and get something to eat. She placed a hand on her wound and grimaced. Morgan was panting and sweating, and it looked like a fever was taking hold of the wounded girl.

“Shit.” Clarke cursed. She grabbed a bowl and filled it with cold water and used a cloth to wipe the girls forehead. Darkness shrouded the infirmary, and Clarke looked out the window to see the sun was already setting. Had the entire day passed already? Being so busy with treating and dismissing patients had made the time fly by. She leaned back in her chair and sighed. The infirmary was pretty much empty, save for a few sleeping patients. Morgan groaned in pain and fidgeted in her cot.

“That doesn’t look good.” A voice said from right behind Clarke. She whirled around in surprise, but relaxed when she saw the Captain smirking behind her. She playfully smacked his arm and exclaimed, “Don’t scare me like that!”

Bellamy teased Clarke about not paying attention and handed her a bowl of soup and a piece of bread.

“Here. Monty told me you’ve been stuck in here all day.” He said as he handed her the bowl. Clarke thanked him and munched on the bread, dipping it into the broth for flavor. Bellamy checked on the few patients still in the infirmary and then pulled up a chair to join Clarke next to Morgan’s cot.

“You did a good job fixing up all those kids today.” He complimented. Clarke swallowed a mouthful of soup, grimacing at the taste of spinach and cooked carrots. She shrugged in response to his remark, implying that it was all in a days work. They sat in silence while Clarke ate, the sounds of Morgan’s labored breathing filling the room.

“What can you do?” Bellamy asked her after she set aside her empty bowl.

“Not much. I don’t have the right equipment for surgery, so I can’t remove any of the remaining pieces of shrapnel infecting her body. All I can do is treat the infection and try to keep her fever down for now.” Clarke explained softly. She wiped Morgan’s forehead again with a damp cloth. Bellamy sighed and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his face with his hands. He had changed into a fresh cotton shirt and trousers and had bathed since the morning. His dark curls still looked damp. Clarke sighed as well, and they sat in silence for a few moments.

“After we take care of Murphy, we can try and get Morgan to a hospital or get better equipment.” Bellamy said reassuringly. Clarke shook her head and Bellamy scowled.

“It might be too late by then.” She muttered solemnly. Bellamy stood up and paced angrily.

“There has to be something we can do.” He said. Clarke turned in her chair to face him, her expression grave.

“Even if I did have the right equipment, or we got her to a hospital in the next twenty-four hours, she probably won’t survive the surgery. She’s too weak. Even if she did survive the surgery, the infection will have spread too far by then.” Clarke explained with a frustrated sigh. She looked at the wounded girl on the cot. Her skin was damp with sweat, and her face was filled with pain. She was suffering and Clarke didn’t know what to do.

“I-I don’t know what to do, Bellamy.” Clarke stuttered. She stood up and paced around the room, trying to control her emotions. She hadn’t been a healer on the ship long, but so far she’d only lost one person, Atom. Her life was filled with death and sorrow, and Clarke wanted to save at lease one innocent girl who was dying because of her. The weight of the world was crushing Clarke, and she didn’t know how to escape. She leaned against the counter and sighed.

“She’s dying and I don’t know what to do.” She choked. Bellamy looked at the lonely form of a broken girl, and he reached out to comfort her, but pulled away.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Morgan’s a fighter. She won’t go down easy. We’ll take care of the traitors, and then we’ll take her to a hospital. Everything is going to be fine.” He said softly.

“It’s not going to be fine, Captain. The kingdom is dying, just like that poor girl.” Clarke yelled.

“Don’t you give up! We’ve come too far, and you have shit to do, Princess!” Bellamy shouted. Clarke turned to face the furious pirate, and her eyes contained a sorrow worth a thousand lifetimes of pain. Bellamy stomped toward her and pushed her back against the counter, his arm on either side of her body, his face inches away from hers.

“Listen to me. You said you wanted to save everyone. So that’s what you’re going to do. I’m going to be by your side, along with the rest of the crew, and we are going to destroy the corruption in this kingdom and put an end to the pain you’ve endured. I’m with you, Clarke, whether you want me or not.” Bellamy stated fiercely. His brows were knotted in determination, and his brown eyes reflected her own image, the image of a broken girl. Bellamy’s jaw clenched, and he waited for her response.

Bellamy was right. She had to focus on saving the kingdom, and putting an end to the camps and finding the one who killed her father. Clarke stared into Bellamy’s warm eyes, and she accepted her pain. It was a part of her, and she had to live with it, rather than fight it. Yes, she had been tortured and experimented on, and betrayed, but she was alive. And she could make a difference. She would mourn Finn’s death, but she would avenge all the lives that had been lost to the evil her family had created. She had people to support her now, and help her stand against the corruption of the royal family- her family.  
Bellamy saw the shift in the princess before him: she had grown from a broken girl with no hope, to a warrior who would fight with him. Smiling, he leaned back, and put out his hand.

“We’re partners now.” He offered. Clarke smiled back at him, and grabbed his hand. They shook, marking the beginning of a powerful alliance.

~~~~~~~~~~

After the mutiny, the crew worked on recovery. The wounded had been treated, and the traitors jailed, therefore business ran as usual on The 100. Monty helped Clarke in the infirmary, Raven worked together with the engineers to fix up the ship, and Miller and Bellamy charted a course to a small, uninhabited island chain to drop the traitors on. As night fell, Clarke and Bellamy stood at the helm, in front of the entire crew.

“I know we’ve been through a lot the past few days, and we owe you an explanation. Finn betrayed us to save his own skin. He abandoned his family, and tried to kill one of his own. Clarke has saved many of us, and although she is new to the crew, her skills are invaluable to us. She’s the one who has patched up you bastards for the past few weeks, and she’s an important noble. I’ll let her explain.” Bellamy said, waving his hand for Clarke to take the stage.

“I was imprisoned and tortured for a year at Walden. I’ve seen the corruption and the evil in the kingdom. I’ve felt the pain of the people, and I feel the thirst for justice all of us wish for. Bel-The Captain and I have decided to rebel against the kingdom, and seek justice. If you join us, we will tear down this corrupt government and bring justice to the kingdom!” Clarke shouted. The crew started to cheer, and the bellowing uproar surprised Clarke. She didn’t expect them to react so strongly to her words. She couldn’t stop a smile from lighting her features, and she looked over at Bellamy, who was smugly grinning at her.

“Thank you Clarke! You saved my life!” A voice called. Astounded, the princess looked around in the crowd of cheering crewmates, and more and more voices joined the first.

“You healed us!”

“Thank you Clarke!”

“Let’s get those sons of bitches!”

Clarke’s smile slowly faded as the crowd cheered. They didn’t know that she was the future ruler of the monarchy they despised. If they ever found out, they would probably kill her, or at least throw her overboard like Murphy. Bellamy noticed his partner’s forlorn expression, and placed his hand on her shoulder comfortingly.

“Alright, you lazy bastards! Let’s get this ship back in tip-top shape! I want to be rid of the traitors by morning, and then we can get back to business! Get to work!” Bellamy ordered. The crew obeyed his command, but with laughs and celebrations. Now the ship had a better purpose than just plundering random ships in the sea. Everyone on board was happy to help demolish the corrupt monarchy.

Clarke made her way back down onto the deck, and chatted with some of the crew before descending to her room. She unhooked her sword from her belt and placed it next to her bed. Sighing, she untied her corset and took off her shirt, grimacing when she saw the small bloodstain from her wound. She gently unwrapped the gauze from around her torso, each layer bloodier than the last. Clarke let out a frustrated groan when she saw that somewhere during the day, she had ripped her stitches, leaving her wound a gaping, bloody mess. She grabbed her shirt and pulled it back on, not bothering to retie her corset, and left her room to go to the infirmary.

She didn’t pass many people on her way, since most had finished up their chores and gone to bed. When she arrived at the infirmary, Clarke grabbed a cup and opened the barrel of water in the corner of the room. She scooped some water with her cup and wet a rag to clean her wound. After the bleeding had stopped, and the wound was disinfected, she grabbed a needle and thread to redo her stitches. After trying to hook the needle into her flesh a few times, Clarke cursed in frustration. Since the main part of the wound was on her back, Clarke couldn’t stitch herself up alone. She would need someone else to help her, but Monty was asleep already and she didn’t want to wake him for such a simple task.

“Fuck me.” Clarke muttered.

“At least let me buy you dinner first.” Bellamy’s voice said with a chuckle. Clarke turned to see the Captain standing in the doorway, with his signature smirk.

“I heard someone messing around in here, and a few unsavory curses, so I figured I’d check it out. Good thing I did, cause it looks like you need some help, Princess.” Bellamy commented, walking towards her to grab the needle and thread. Clarke had an urge to cover herself, since she was only in her skirt and brassiere, but she figured the Captain wasn’t one to judge and he’d seen her looking worse.

“I guess. It’s just that I can’t see the wound, so I can’t stitch it up.” Clarke explained sheepishly.

“Don’t worry. I can’t expect you to do everything around here.” He joked. Clarke smiled, and handed him the needle.

“I’m trying to resist the urge to say ‘I told you so’ but I don’t think I can, so I told you so.” Bellamy said as he threaded Clarke’s wound. She just huffed in response. Curse his smug ass, she thought.

“Alright. All done.” Bellamy grunted, after tying off the thread and breaking the excess. Clarke tries to turn her body to allow her to see the wound, but fails.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I know what I’m doing.” Bellamy chuckled, watching her try to contort her body.

“If you insist.” She sighs. Deciding to do something herself, she grabs a roll of gauze and starts to wrap it around her torso while Bellamy washes the needle in a bowl of water.

“By late morning we’ll be near an island chain where one of my buddies used to smuggle drugs into the kingdom, which will become Murphy’s new home, and then we can go and get Morgan proper care.” Bellamy said to his new partner.

“That’s good. I don’t know how much longer she’ll last.” Clarke said, looking over at the injured girl on the cot. Clarke grabbed a fresh rag, and dipped it into the cool water in the barrel, and used it to wipe Morgan’s sweaty forehead. Her fever was getting worse.

“You need to get some rest. Big day ahead.” Bellamy stated. Clarke heaved a tired sigh. The captain was right. She did need to rest, but there was so much to do.

“I guess so.” She admitted reluctantly. The healer in her was insisting that she stay up with Morgan to watch over the poor girl, but she needed to rest. She had been stabbed just yesterday after all. Clarke bid Bellamy farewell and wandered around the ship, not feeling like going straight to her cabin just yet. Eventually the princess found herself on the deck, looking over the edge of the ship and into the dark water. She should learn how to swim soon.

“Hey, Clarke.” A feminine voice said. The owner of the voice leaned onto the railing next to Clarke, and sighed.

“Raven.” Clarke replied, looking over at the mechanic curiously.

“I feel like we should talk.” Raven said, giving the girl next to her a pointed stare. Clarke looked back down at the water.

“We probably should.” Clarke muttered. The sound of the waves lapping against the ship filled the next moment, until Raven spoke again.

“I don’t blame you for Finn. You didn’t know.” Clarke stiffened, but the mechanic continued.

“When we were in Washington, I realized how selfish he was, and what a total ass he had become, and I tried to end things with him. He wasn’t the same person that I had fallen in love with. And you did what you had to do yesterday. It was self-defense. Nobody blames you, Clarke.” Raven said comfortingly. She placed a hand on the shuddering blonde’s shoulder, her brow knitted in worry.

Clarke couldn’t help her reaction to Raven’s words. It was her fault. Finn had turned into that horrible, corrupt person because of her. He had killed because of her.

“It is my fault, Raven. I killed him.” She sobbed. Raven rubbed Clarke’s back, and told her it wasn’t her fault, but Clarke wasn’t listening.

“I killed him.” She whispered. She dropped her head into her hands, and tears filled her eyes.

“Clarke, hey, look at me.” Raven said, prompting the crying blonde to met her earnest gaze.

“It is not your fault. He was going to kill you.” Raven pulled her into a warm embrace, and let Clarke cry away her guilt and sorrow. Clarke sniffled when the tears had stopped, and pulled away sheepishly.

“I’m sorry.” She murmured. Raven gave her a wide grin, and smacked her back.

“No worries. We all need to let it out eventually.” She laughed. Clarke smiled with the mechanic, and looked back out at the rolling waves.

“I’d like us to be friends.” Clarke said, a slight blush tinting her cheeks. The princess was not used to asking someone to be her friend, and wasn’t sure how Raven would respond.

“I’d like that too.” Raven replied. Clarke bit her lip to conceal her smile. The two chatted for a few minutes about the state of the ship, and Raven complained about all the repairs she’s had to make since she got back.

“Not a single moment to relax! I swear the Captain is trying to run me to the ground.” Raven joked, making Clarke laugh. She had been laughing more often since she joined the pirates, and Clarke hoped it would stay that way. When Clarke couldn’t hide her yawns any longer, Raven insisted she go to bed, saying something about more repairs to do. When she collapsed onto her bed, Clarke couldn’t help but smile. It had been a good day. She was sure that she could be happy again if she stayed with The 100.

But all good things must come to an end.

~~~~~~~~~~

Clarke woke up right when the sun was rising the next morning. With a yawn and a sleepy groan, Clarke rose from her bed, noting how she had been too tired to even get under the covers. She shivered in the morning chill, and donned a fresh shirt, after changing her bandages, and a dark blue skirt. She tied her corset a bit looser than usual because of her aching torso, and could barely lean over to put on her boots she was so sore.

“I really need to stop getting stabbed.” Clarke said with a groan. She heard a knock on her door, and Octavia walked in with a smile.

“Amen to that.” She giggled. Clarke smiled and hugged the girl.

“I didn’t get to see you after the mutiny, you’re okay, right?” Clarke asked, looking her over for any wounds.

“I’m fine, thanks to you. Bellamy wanted me to come get you since we’re nearing the island chain.” Octavia said, pulling Clarke out of her cabin. The princess quickly grabbed her sword before letting Octavia drag her out onto the deck. She was in the middle of tying the belt around her waist when Bellamy sauntered up to the pair. He had his huge hat on again, and his red waistcoat and a dark shirt and trousers.

“We’re almost close enough to drop the prisoners, but there’s a coastal reef that’s making things tricky.” Bellamy said, looking up at the helm where Miller was standing. Clarke looked out at the sea and saw a tiny scrap of land that barely qualified as an island a few hundred feet away. Farther out, more and more specks of land dotted the horizon. There seemed to be a couple of large land masses a few miles down the reef.

“We should be careful. I’m sure Raven doesn’t need any more work.” Clarke said with a smile, remembering how the mechanic had complained last night.

“She complains too much.” Bellamy retorted. He seemed more anxious than usual, and Clarke knew that the reef was putting him on edge, as well as the fact that he was about to lose some valuable crewmates.

“We’ll be fine, don’t worry.” She said, patting the Captain’s shoulder. He looked down at her with a raised eyebrow, but let out a deep breath.

“Thanks.” He said, still smiling down at Clarke. Octavia coughed, disrupting the moment between the Captain and the princess.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I think Miller wants you.” She chuckled, pointing up at the helm, where Miller was waving his arms.

“Right.” Bellamy said, clearing his throat. He walked up to the helm, Clarke and Octavia right on his tail.

“What is it?” He asked Miller.

“I think we’re as close as we can get without damaging the ship. How Wick managed to get through this reef, I’ll never know.” Miller grunted, sweat dripping down his brow.

“Then I guess this’ll have to do.” Bellamy said with a shrug.

“Bring ‘em out!” He yelled down at the crew. A few moments later, Murphy and his dozen followers emerged, all chained together and escorted by angry members of the crew. Clarke looked down at Murphy’s furious expression and scowled. He met her disdainful gaze with one of immense hatred.

“Curse you, Clarke. You and that dog of a Captain!” Murphy spat. Clarke scowled, and looked away from the cursing pirate.

“Murphy! You have been accused of mutiny! As the ringleader of this traitorous plot, you are hereby banished! You will live out the rest of your short, miserable life on that speck of land! Your mutinous pals will receive leniency, and will be banished when we make port. As Captain, this is my decision. I hope you learned your lesson!” Bellamy commanded. Fear took over Murphy, and he started to beg for his life. He clung to one of the guards, sniveling and crying.

“I don’t want to die! Please!” He begged. The guard just spat in his face and kicked him away.

“Take the rest of em down to the brig. They’ll get their punishment when we make port later.” Bellamy ordered. All but two of the guards that had brought the prisoners out dragged all but Murphy back into the depths of the ship. Murphy was lifted by the two remaining guards, and they unlocked his shackles, the chains falling to the floor with a loud clatter.

“Send him on his way.” Bellamy ordered, waving his hand out towards the sea.

“No! No! I won’t!” Murhy protested, fighting against the guards to stay on the ship. Clarke saw Monroe open up a panel in the side of the ship and push out a plank for Murphy to walk down. The crew started to bang the ends of their scabbards against the deck, creating a marching rhythm to follow Murphy. The pirate was screaming out now, cursing all of the crew for his banishment. The guards had pushed him onto the plank, swords drawn and pointed directly at him, and now he was slowly inching backwards. Realizing that he was rapidly losing space on the plank, Murphy desperately looked around for anything, or anyone, to help him. His eyes met Clarkes icy blue ones, and he started screaming again.

“I swear to you! I will kill you, Clarke! This is on you! I know what you are, and I will kill you!” Murphy exclaimed over the pulsing beat, spittle flying from his grimacing jaws. Clarke winced and her eyes widened at his statement. Did he know who she was? Did Finn tell him her secret identity? Clarke felt dizzy, and she swayed. She grabbed onto the railing in front of the helm for support, drawing Bellamy’s attention.

“Enough!” Bellamy shouted. The crew stopped beating their weapons, and silence fell. Even Murphy had stopped at his bellow.

“I tire of this. Remove him!” The Captain demanded. The guards obliged, and stabbed their blades out towards Murphy, who was out of luck and out of space to stand. He instinctively stepped back to avoid the sharp steel jabbing towards him, and his foot hit air instead of sturdy wood. Gasping, Murphy reached out his arms to try and grab onto anything, but there was nothing for him to grab. His eyes were wide and filled with fear as he lost his balance and fell from the plank.

There was a loud splash, followed by sputtering and smaller splashes. He had survived the fall, but now the ship was turning around to leave. Murphy swam in place, watching the ship go, and let his fear consume him. He couldn’t die, not yet. He turned towards the tiny speck of land a few hundred feet away, and started to swim.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Glad that’s over with.” Octavia muttered. Clarke made a noise of agreement, and took a deep breath. It had been a few minutes since they had watched Murphy fall from the plank, and now they were closer to the larger islands of the chain. She shook her head, trying to get rid of the dizziness.

“You okay?” Bellamy asked the shaking princess. She nodded in response, not trusting herself to speak.

“All the adrenaline is gone, and the effects of her wound are getting to her.” Monty said, jumping up from the lower deck. He climbed up the stairs leading to the helm, and handed Clarke a cup of water, which she drank greedily.

“It’s not that bad. I’m fine.” Clarke said, trying to ignore the soreness and tender pain in her torso and the dizziness in her head.

“You aren’t fooling anyone, Princess.” Bellamy stated with a raised eyebrow that said ‘I told you so.’ Clarke ignored her Captain, and climbed down from the helm. Monty followed her, and the two went down to the infirmary to check on patients. Octavia patted her brother on the shoulder, and ruffled the feathers on his hat.

“Don’t worry, brother.” She said with a laugh. Octavia left Bellamy and Miller at the helm, and followed her stomach down to the kitchen to get some food.

“Miller, chart a course to the nearest port. We need to get there as soon as possible.” Bellamy commanded, his mind on the dying girl in the infirmary.

“Yes sir.” Miller replied, turning the helm to steer away from the large island behind them and out to the open ocean. Bellamy left his second and jumped down to check on the status of his ship and the repairs.

“Raven! Fill me in.” He called to the mechanic, who scowled, but gestured for him to follow her around the ship.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Clarke, I know you think you’re fine, but you aren’t. You need rest.” Monty said to the blonde in front of him. Clarke scowled, and pushed open the door to the infirmary angrily. She ignored the advice from her friend, and instead started to change bandages and dismiss some more of her patients. She allowed three out of the four patients in the infirmary to leave her care, but gave them instructions to see her every morning and night so she could check their wounds. All that remained was Morgan, who looked worse.

The girl was panting, and her skin was deathly pale. Sweat soaked her face and her entire body was shuddering. Clarke quickly gave her another dose of antibiotics and changed her bandages, removing some of the pus and infected tissue at the same time. Monty had come up behind her, and was telling her to go rest, and that he could take care of Morgan for the day.

“I’m fine.” She said again, but Monty was not listening.

“I know how to handle a fever, and in a few hours we’ll be at a port and Morgan will be in the care of healers at a hospital. You were just stabbed, and need to rest.” Monty said sternly. Clarke closed her eyes, feeling the pain and dizziness, and decided to agree with Monty for once.

“Fine. You win.” She said sharply. Monty smiled, ignoring her annoyed tone, and pushed her out of the infirmary with instructions to go lay down and rest. She heard a loud commotion on deck, but ignored it and started heading for her room. Then, all hell broke loose.

There was a loud crack, and the ship rocked over hard to the right, tossing it’s inhabitants off balance. Clarke screamed, and fell against the wall of the hallway, and she heard similar shouts of pain and exclamations around the ship. The ship rocked back again, but kept moving towards the left instead of staying upright. Most of the lanterns in the hall had fallen from their hooks, and the cracking sound continued to fill the air. Clarke hissed in pain, but climbed out onto the deck in confusion. Many of the crew had already ascended to the deck, and more crawled out from behind Clarke. There were shouts and screams, and Clarke could hear loud splashing, as if someone was tossing things overboard. She saw the colorful feathers of Bellamy’s hat, and started heading towards him, which was more difficult than usual since the ship was tilting. She clamored up onto the helm, and grabbed the Captain’s arm.

“What’s going on?” She asked frantically. Bellamy turned towards her, his face filled with fear.

“We hit the reef. The ship’s going down.” He said darkly. Clarke gaped at the Captain, and ran over to the railing to look over the port side. Her eyes widened in shock when she saw chunks of broken wood floating in the water and a giant rip in the hull that was drinking up gallons and gallons of sea water. The ship was sinking. She turned to face Bellamy, but he was gone. Most of the crew were standing on the starboard side of the ship, and holding onto the railing to keep their balance.

“Abandon ship! Grab what you can and jump!” Bellamy’s voice bellowed. Shouts of shock and fear filled the air, but the crew followed their Captain’s orders and jumped from the ship. Clarke was frozen. Abandon ship? She clapped her hand against her mouth, and ran down onto the deck, heading back below deck to the infirmary, but before she reached the entryway, strong arms grabbed her by the waist and heaved her away.

“No! Monty’s down there still! And so is Morgan! They’re going to drown!” Clarke exclaimed, fighting against the person holding her.

“Monty will be fine! We need to go!” Raven said. She tightened her grip on the writhing princess, and pulled her towards the railing.

“Listen to me! You’re no use to us dead! We have to jump!” Raven yelled at the girl in her arms. Clarke met her fierce gaze, and nodded. There was nothing she could do for them now. The infirmary was probably underwater already. In the chaos, Clarke didn’t notice that the ship was severely tilted now, and that the port bow was dipping under the sea.

Raven, satisfied that Clarke would jump with her, released the blonde and leapt from the railing and into the ocean. Clarke looked down at the crew, who were starting to swim to the large island in the distance. She took a deep breath and prepared to jump.

“Raven! I can’t swim!” She called out. Raven looked back at her, and cursed. Clarke could feel the spray of the ocean on her back, and she tightened her belt. She took another deep breath, and then jumped into the cold embrace of the sea once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOH! A cliffhanger! Anyway, I hoped you enjoyed this chapter, and I didn't beta it this time, so forgive any mistakes please.  
> SPecial thanks to tumblr user awfullybashful for being awesome!  
> Reviews/comments/kudos feed my soul!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for my absence! I would've had this up a week ago but my computer glitched out *cries*  
> Anyway, here's chapter 8 and there's quite a bit of bellarke in here for y'all as an apology! I hope you like!

Clarke hit the water hard, the impact knocking the air out of her lungs. She reached for the surface, but her clothes and weapon were weighing her down and dragged her deeper and deeper. She kicked her legs like she had seen others do, but it was useless. Her arms were still reaching upwards when strong hands grabbed hers and pulled her up.  
Clarke gasped for breath when her head broke through the surface. Panting, she looked over and saw Raven holding her up, but the mechanic was struggling.   
“Grab onto my shoulders!” Raven shouted. Clarke nodded, and gripped her shoulders, and Raven rolled onto her stomach and started to paddle and kick towards the island and the rest of the crew. Clarke was dangling diagonally over Raven’s back, but the combined weight from both of them was weighing Raven down. Raven was panting and gasping and her head kept dipping underwater, but she kept swimming nevertheless.  
“Raven! It’s no use! I’m dragging you down!” Clarke exclaimed. She let go of her shoulders and pushed Raven away. Since the mechanic was too exhausted to try and grab the sinking princess again, she swam in desperation towards the nearest body to ask for help. Clarke rolled in the waves, dipping in and out of the water. She paddled, or at least tried to, in a feeble attempt to swim, but it barely helped her stay above the water. With a choke and a gasp, Clarke felt her strength wane and her body star to sink again. The cold water drained her energy, and Clarke thrashed in the water to try and keep afloat, when once again strong arms grabbed her by the waist and heaved her towards the surface.   
Clarke inhaled the brisk, salty air and looked up at her rescuer. Bellamy’s face met hers, and she could see the worry in his features.   
“Come on Princess, how many times do I have to fish you out of trouble?” He joked lightly to try and lighten the mood. Clarke spat out a laugh, and held on to the Captain’s broad shoulders, her hands twining around his neck and fingers twirling in his curls. Bellamy maneuvered their bodies so that Clarke was underneath him with her body flush against his, and wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her tight against him and above the water. He held her up so that her face was even with his, giving him freedom to kick his legs and swim without hitting her. Clarke kept her arms wrapped around his neck and held herself up to allow him to use his arms to swim. Her flushed face was inches away from his, and she could see the many freckles dotting his skin. His warm brown eyes were fixed on the island behind them, but every once in a while he would look down and meet her blue gaze.   
“Thank you.” Clarke murmured quietly. She felt Bellamy tense slightly, then relax.   
“You’re welcome.” He replied in a husky voice.   
“Your ship, I can’t believe-“  
“It was just a ship. The important thing is that everyone is safe.” Bellamy stated, but Clarke could see the grief in his eyes and knew his true feelings. He had lost his home. All of them had.   
“Morgan’s most likely dead.” Clarke stuttered. She could feel tears filling her eyes, and willed them away.   
“Many of us are. There were crewmates down in the cargo bay when we hit the reef. They didn’t stand a chance.” Bellamy said with a dark curse. Clarke pulled herself tighter against him so that her chin rested on his shoulder and sighed.   
“We’ll survive.” She whispered. She felt Bellamy nod, and the rest of the trip to shore passed in silence. Looking over the Captain’s back, Clarke could see the main mast starting to dip under the waves, and saw chests and clothes floating in the water. Boxes and barrels drifted in the sea, and some were slowly following the current towards the shore of the island.   
Bellamy was breathing heavily when they were close enough to touch the sandy bottom with their feet. Clarke released the tired Captain and started to walk on her own towards the shore where she could see the crew milling about and fishing random items out of the water, as well as bodies. Clarke shivered, and clutched her torso in an attempt to warm herself. Bellamy glanced over at the shivering woman next to him and thrust his arm around her shoulders and pulled her towards him.   
“Wha-“ Clarke exclaimed, looking up at the Captain’s blank face in confusion.   
“We need to keep warm.” He said as an explanation. Clarke nodded, and allowed Bellamy to hold her against him, and by the time they reached the shore, she was sure she was acting as support to keep him from collapsing from exhaustion.   
“Captain!” Multiple voices chorused.   
“What’s the status?” Bellamy panted. Clarke held her position against his side with his arm slung over her shoulder, and her arm wrapped around his waist.  
“We’re getting ready to do a head count, but it doesn’t look good sir. We’ve already fished a few out of the water, and more and more are still coming. Supplies are low, and most have been damaged by the water, or are at the bottom of the ocean.” Jasper said. He had come running up the moment Bellamy and Clarke’s feet had hit the sandy beach, and apparently he had lost his goggles sometime during the chaos, and Clarke thought he looked strange without them atop his brown bangs. Clarke’s grip tightened around Bellamy’s waist at the news, and his arm pulled her in tighter. She looked up at him, and he looked down with a grave expression. Luckily, they had sailed out towards one of the bigger islands in the chain, otherwise they would be screwed and stuck on a patch of sand like Murphy.   
“We need to recover whatever we can. I don’t like the chill in the air, and I’ll start a headcount.” Bellamy said, taking command of the situation.   
“I’ll start treating the wounded with whatever I can find.” Clarke said, her voice raspy and sore from the water. Bellamy nodded, and they stayed in each other’s arms for a moment, not wanting to leave the warm feeling of safety they provided. Jasper looked at the Captain with a raised brow, and Clarke pulled her arm away from the Captain’s waist. Bellamy soon pulled away, a bit reluctantly, and they ran off in separate directions. Bellamy dove back into the water to fish out bodies and supplies, and Clarke ran towards the remaining crew.   
“Does anybody need medical treatment? Are we okay?” Clarke shouted, glancing around at the remaining crew. The knot in her chest loosened every time she saw a familiar face. She knew Monty was still missing, and Morgan was most likely dead, but every fearful face she saw filled her with hope. She treated a few scrapes with some leaves from the forest floor behind the beach and inspected bumped heads.   
“Clarke!” A familiar voice cried. Before the princess had time to turn to face the caller, she was tackled in a tight bear hug.   
“Oof!” She grunted. Clarke looked at the brown head on her shoulder, and recognized her attacker as Octavia. She hugged the crying girl back, and pulled away to inspect her for any wounds.   
“I’m so glad you’re okay!” Both of them said at the same time. Clarke chuckled along with Octavia and let the girl speak first.   
“I was so scared when the ship started to sink! I was one of the first in the water. I was so worried for you and everyone else! What are we going to do now?” She asked, wiping away a few stray tears. Clarke’s fist clenched at the girl’s question. It was the question of the day. What were they going to do now?  
“I don’t know, Octavia. We’re going to do what we need to in order to survive.” Clarke reassured. Octavia nodded, and smiled at the princess.   
“I’m going to go find my brother, and help with the rescues.” She said, running off and leaving Clarke. The blonde continued to check out any wounds anyone had, and luckily most were minor scrapes and bumps from the impact in the water and debris. After a few minutes of wandering around and checking in with the crew, Clarke made her way over to where the Captain was standing, along with most of the survivors.   
“Bellamy, what’s the count?” Clarke asked when she squeezed next to him, tapping his arm to get his attention. Bellamy sighed, and pulled Clarke away from the crowd.   
“It doesn’t look good, Princess. About two thirds of the crew is alive and on the beach, and the rest are dead. The prisoners in the brig are definitely dead, and anyone below the second level is most likely dead. Supplies are low, since most of them were in the cargo bay. Thankfully since we just resupplied, we have a bit to survive on, but everything is water damaged. No medical supplies, no food.” Bellamy concluded gravely. Clarke bit her lip in frustration.   
“We should move further inland to avoid the tide, and to get cover in the forest while we think about what we’re going to do. And try to find a source of drinkable water as well as something for food. We need to build a camp or something while we pull together a plan.” Clarke said, her mind racing.   
“Good idea. We can start assigning jobs and build a camp by nightfall. I’ll send out some scouts to find fresh water and the two of us need to try and keep the peace and order.” Bellamy said. Clarke nodded in agreement, and the two of them returned to the shore and started to pull people closer for an announcement.  
“Everyone! Listen up! What just happened was a tragedy. No denying that. We’ve lost a lot of lives, and we’ve lost our home.” Bellamy paused, looking at the crowd.   
“But we can’t mourn just yet! We need to survive for those who have died. Clarke and I are going to assign teams for jobs that need to be done today! Luckily it’s still early, so we have time to build something of a camp, and find water and food. We aren’t dying anytime soon, not on my watch.” Bellamy concluded, his eyes blazing. The crew cheered, a bit halfheartedly, and Bellamy and Clarke started to meet up with people and assign jobs.   
“Jasper, I want you to find your fastest friends and head out to scout the area. Look for a clearing, fresh water, food, anything useful. Go.” Bellamy commanded. Jasper gulped, and nodded. He grabbed three more people, and then ran off into the forest.   
“Hugh! Jack! Miller! I need you guys to start organizing the supplies and gathering wood for fire and a fence. We don’t know what lives on this island and we need defenses.” Bellamy ordered. Miller nodded, and ran off with a large group to start gathering the supplies that had washed ashore. Bellamy continued like that for a few more minutes, until everyone left was running around doing something.   
“Have you seen Monty?” Clarke asked the Captain when he finished his assignments.   
“No, not yet. I’m sure he’s fine.” Bellamy said. Clarke nodded, but she was worried about her friend. He had been in the infirmary the last time she saw him, which was by the cargo bay-where the crash was the worst. Clarke and Bellamy sat down on the sand and she started to draw out what she assumed to be the island.   
“Ok. So here’s us.” She said, drawing a large circle with a stick she had found.   
“And here’s Murphy.” She jabbed the stick into the ground about a foot away and then sketched out the rest of the island chain.   
“Luckily he’s pretty far away, so we won’t have to worry about him. Now here’s what I think we should do for a campsite, since we don’t know how long we’ll be stuck here.” Clarke said. She scooted over, her knee bumping Bellamy’s. They were sitting side by side, and leaning in towards each other to look down at Clarke’s sketch.   
“So we’ll have a perimeter fence, and a place to store food, and maybe a central hut or something to gather. People can sleep on the ground, or make some sort of shelter out of the leaves and trees.” She said, drawing out a simple compound in the sand.  
“The fence should have guard posts, or somewhere for people to stand so we can keep a look out for predators. And we’ll need huts or something. Luckily the trees on this island seem to have big leaves, and we can make teepee-like structures.” Bellamy said, pointing to different places on Clarke’s sand sketch. She nodded, and drew notches in the line that marked a fence for little platforms to be guard towers.   
Clarke noticed that her leg was right against Bellamy’s, and that their shoulders were touching. She wanted to scoot away and give the Captain some space, but she was so cold. She shivered, and continued to talk with Bellamy about what needed to be done in the next few days while they regrouped.   
“Are you cold?” He asked her after she started to shiver again. Goosebumps had popped up on her arms, and she nodded in reply to his question.   
“Just a little. It’s only because my clothes are still wet.” She said softly. Bellamy grunted in reply. Everyone on the island was soaking wet and feeling the chill.   
“The sun will be right above us soon, and we’ll wish we were cold.” Bellamy said. Clarke laughed and agreed. She felt him shift against her, and then felt a heavy dampness plop down on top of her shoulders. She felt the fabric, and knew it was Bellamy’s overcoat. She tried to give it back to him, but he held firm and placed his hands on her shoulders to keep her from taking it off.  
“Just wear the damn thing, okay? I’m tryin’ to be nice.” He grumbled. Clarke felt a shy smile cross her lips, and she pulled the overcoat tighter against her. Bellamy’s musky scent filled her nose, and she subtly took a large whiff. He smelled like mint and the sea. The mint was probably from his soap, and he had been out at sea for so long he had absorbed its scent.   
“Thanks.” She muttered. Bellamy grumbled something about how he had to do something since she looked so pathetic, and the two of them continued to plan through their most recent disaster.   
“Captain! We found someone in the water!” A voice called out, rousing the two leaders. Clarke jumped up and ran towards the crowd that had gathered around the survivor. It had to be Monty. If he didn’t make it out…Clarke didn’t know what she would do.   
“Let me through! Healer coming through!” Clarke shouted as she pushed through the crowd. When she broke through the last few people, she saw Monty lying on the sand, unconscious and not breathing.   
“Move move move!” She shouted. Clarke dropped down next to her friend and put her head against his chest. When she heard a faint, but still beating heart she almost cried in relief. Clarke tilted his head up and held his nose closed, and then placed her mouth on his and pushed air into his lungs. Then she started the compressions on his chest, and she breathed into his mouth again.   
“Come on, come on!” She said through clenched teeth. Right when she was about to do mouth to mouth again, Monty’s body jerked and water spewed from his mouth. He sputtered for a minute, his breaths raspy.   
“C-la-rke?” He croaked. She smiled and nodded.   
“Did someone kiss me, or was it just a dream?” Monty asked a minute later. Clarke laughed and helped her friend up off of the sand.   
“I’m so glad you’re okay.” Clarke grinned.   
“You and me both.” Monty rasped.   
“Is Jasper okay?” He asked after a moment, looking up at Clarke in fear for his friend.   
“He’s fine. He’s out scouting now.” Clarke comforted. Monty sighed in relief, and was drawn away by his other friends. Bellamy stepped up behind the blonde healer and tapped her shoulder.   
“We need to gather the crew and move further inland to find a spot to make camp. The tide’ll be coming in anytime now.” He stated. Clarke sighed, but nodded. She glanced over at Monty, who was gesturing wildly with Roma- his rescuer- in what Clarke assumed was a drastically melodramatic version of his rescue. Together, the princess and the pirate gathered the crew and whatever supplies they could carry and headed for the forest at the edge of the beach.   
“Shouldn’t we wait for Jasper and his scouts?” Clarke asked when they started to look around for a place to make camp.   
“Nah. His main priority is water, and we can just make a temporary camp at the edge of the forest until we find a more permanent position.” The captain replied. She nodded in understanding and soon Bellamy had picked a small meadow about a hundred feet into the forest for the crew to make camp. Clarke helped some of the seriously wounded toward one corner of the small clearing they had found and started to search around for any medicinal plants around the meadow, but with no luck. Bellamy had a few of the crew gathering firewood with him, and Monty was helping Clarke find things to use as bandages. Most of the crew was sitting dejectedly in the clearing with the pitiful supplies they had managed to salvage from the wreck. The sun was making its way overhead, and the blonde was starting to feel the heat.   
“Hey Clarke, I forgot to ask, but isn’t that the Captain’s coat?” Monty asked while holding a bundle of thick leaves they were using as makeshift bandages. Clarke froze, some of the sticks and leaves in her own arms falling from her grasp.   
“Um, yea? I was chilly so he lent it to me. I should probably return it, now that I think about it.” She stuttered nervously. Why was she nervous? The Captain was just being nice for once. It wasn’t a big deal, or so she tried to tell herself.   
“Yea, sure. I bet the Captain goes around giving the coat he had custom made from the rare fabric we stole in the southern paradise from the emperor’s son to girls who are a bit chilly.” Monty snorted. Clarke rolled her eyes, and dumped her armful of plants into Monty’s arms, which he struggled to hold. Then, she sauntered away to find the owner of the damn coat so she could give it back. Now that she thought about it, many of the survivors had been giving her a weird look whenever they saw her…  
“Bellamy!” She yelled, stomping up to the Captain. He had stripped his shirt off, and was wiping the sweat from his brow while he used his rapier to cut up some branches of the trees for firewood. Clarke kept her gaze away from his glistening, muscular torso and threw the coat at him. He caught it, and gave her a questioning look.   
“Thanks for letting me borrow it, but it’s too hot now. I won’t need your stupid, fancy coat again.” She spat, her eyes unconsciously roaming his muscular body. Bellamy raised an eyebrow, but before he could say something, Clarke had stormed off as soon as she had come.   
“Do you know what that was about?” He asked Octavia, who had been watching the exchange with a sly smile.   
“I didn’t know you went lending that coat out. If I recall, when I, your sister, wanted to wear it, you said that I couldn’t because I would ruin it.” She teased. Bellamy cleared his throat, and glared at his sister before grabbing his coat and some of the wood and walking to the middle of the clearing, where he had set his shirt. He carefully folded the coat and set it on top of a chunk of wood, then pulled his shirt back on. He met up with Miller to discuss their supplies, and to start building a fire. Despite the heat, the fire would be good for morale and would cook any food they managed to find, and disinfect the water.   
“Have you seen any of the scouts return?” He asked Miller.   
“No, not yet. They haven’t been out that long, though.” He replied. The Captain sighed, and looked around at his sad crew.   
“We need to find a spot to make camp. It’ll get everyone’s spirits up.” Bellamy muttered.   
“Jasper should be back soon. Don’t worry Captain.” Miller said, patting the captain on the back. Bellamy nodded in thanks. Together they used a dagger to start a fire, which people gravitated towards even though it was getting hotter outside by the minute.   
“Clarke! How are the medical supplies?” Bellamy asked. The blonde looked up at him from her spot on the floor next to an unconscious, dark haired man and rolled her eyes. She threw some leaves and a stick at him as a response, then huffed and returned to her work. She needed to be busy right now, after all that had happened. Morgan was at the bottom of the ocean, along with countless others and soon they’d either starve to death or suffer dehydration. Clarke’s throat was already dry, and she would kill for a drink of fresh water. Things were bleak for the crew of the 100.   
“Clarke! I need help!” Monty called out, his voice filled with desperation. Clarke jumped up, ignoring the Captain on her heels, and ran toward her friend, who was holding down a girl’s seizing body.   
“What’s wrong?” She asked, helping Monty hold down the girl.  
“I don’t know! She just started choking!” He exclaimed. Clarke grabbed Bellamy’s arms and put them down where hers had been, and he held down the girl’s legs like Clarke had. If he was going to be here, he was going to help.   
“Did she hit her head?” Clarke asked. Then she recognized the girl. It was Jess, the one who had been his by shrapnel at the battle at the prison. Clarke remembered getting everything out and patched up in the girl, but maybe the fall from the ship had ruptured something. She quickly pulled up her shirt and ripped away the wet bandage on her skin, tensing when she saw the bloodstain on the cloth. She saw ripped stitches, but that wasn’t bad enough for this kind of reaction.   
“It might be internal bleeding, I’m not sure. The trauma from the fall and the extensive swimming could have caused it.” She rambled, her brain scrambling for an answer to keep the girl alive. She put her hands on her chest and felt around, applying pressure with her palms to get a better sense of what was going on.   
Jess seized again, her body shaking violently. Clarke felt the girl’s rapid pulse, and then opened up her mouth to inspect her airway. She heaved a wet cough, spewing blood out of her mouth. Clarke cursed furiously.   
“Her lung’s filling up with fluid.” She growled. Monty stiffened, and looked at Clarke with fear. He had heard the healer talk about how she’d seen many die from drowning in their own blood.   
“I need something thin, like a needle but it has to be hollow. I need to drain the fluid and create an airway so her lung doesn’t collapse.” Clarke demanded.   
“Where the hell are we supposed to find something like that?” Bellamy asked.   
“I don’t know!” She yelled. She looked around desperately at their meager supplies. Jess kept choking and blood was still leaking from her lips. The blonde grabbed her head in frustration. That’s when she saw the reed-like plant hiding underneath the branches of a small tree. She scrambled up and grabbed the bamboo roots, and started to sharpen one end with Bellamy’s knife, which she snatched off of his belt when she slammed back down on the ground next to him. When she deemed the baby root sharp enough, she used the knife to make a small incision, and then she thrust the bamboo root into the girl’s chest. A bit of blood spurted out, but the lung started to breathe in the clean air. Jess’s breathing evened out, and her body stopped shaking. Clarke wiped some sweat off her brow, and cleaned her bloody hands off with a leaf, or at least tried to.   
“It’s not a permanent treatment. It’s just to buy time. But I can’t-“ Clarke’s voice caught, and a lump filled her throat. There was nothing she could do for her patient, just like with Morgan. She needed major surgery, but there wasn’t anything here to use for surgery. Hell, Clarke had just thrust an unsterilized plant into the poor girl’s chest.   
“I’m going to go-look around. For something. Medicine.” Clarke muttered, leaving Monty to watch Jess’s labored breathing. She shakily stood, feeling weak and dizzy, and stumbled out into the forest. The adrenaline from the wreck was wearing off, and her wound was throbbing in pain. Clarke felt nauseous and dizzy, but the nausea was most likely from the crash. Breathing heavily, Clarke leaned against a tree for support while she tried to catch her breath. She could feel a panic attack coming on, and her hands were shaking. She clutched at her chest, her hand rubbing the sore wound.   
“Clarke!” A deep voice called. With a heavy sigh, Clarke tried to get herself together before Bellamy caught up with her. She leaned her head back on the trunk of the tree and waited.   
“Hey,” Bellamy said softly, approaching the tired healer slowly. He leaned against the tree next to Clarke and they stood in silence for a moment.   
“It’s going to be okay.” He said, looking down at the forlorn princess.   
“No it is not. That girl is dying, and there’s nothing I can do.” She said, her voice breaking.   
“People die, Clarke. You can’t blame yourself. For Morgan, or for Jess.” Bellamy said. Clarke looked up at the Captain with sad eyes.   
“I’ve seen too much death, and I’ve caused too much death, Bellamy. I just want to save everyone.” Clarke sobbed. She had been surrounded by death, even before her father died- but back then she hadn’t known about all the pain her family had caused. Ignorance is bliss, after all.   
“You’ve saved plenty of people. You saved us in the prison, and you’ve healed almost everyone on my goddamn boat.” He said, putting his hands on her shoulders to make her blue eyes meet his warm brown ones.   
“But she’s going to die. And I could fix it, but not here.” She said.   
“It’s okay. You can’t save everyone. Not everyone needs to be saved.” Bellamy said. Clarke took a deep breath and nodded. She knew it was impossible to save everyone, but that wouldn’t stop her from trying.   
“I’m just scared, Bellamy.” She whispered. Bellamy’s jaw clenched, and he took a deep breath. He pulled Clarke towards him and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tight. He stroked her soft hair and muttered how everything was going to be fine. Clarke relaxed in his arms and burrowed her face in the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around his waist. She took comfort in his large form wrapped around her smaller one and his warmth. They embraced for what was probably considered too long for acquaintances, or even friends.   
Clarke pulled away slowly, not wanting to leave his arms, but she knew they had business to take care of.   
“We should get back.” She said, smiling up at Bellamy in thanks. They were still half-holding each other, but at her words they let go of each other.   
“Yea.” He grumbled. He would never admit how much he liked holding the blonde princess in his arms. Ever. They walked back to the “camp” together, and Clarke apologized to Monty for her behavior. She looked down at Jess, whose breathing was getting worse, and knew what to do.   
“Monty, I need you to get James. He should say goodbye.” Clarke said quietly. Monty jerked, and looked at Clarke blankly. She ignored her friend’s gaze and knelt down next to Jess and pushed the strands of hair out of her pale face. Bellamy knelt down next to Clarke and grabbed Jess’s hand. Together they comforted the dying girl until James came running up with Monty lagging behind.   
“I’m sorry, James. There’s nothing I can do.” Clarke said. They left James alone with Jess for a minute so he could say goodbye, and the princess wrapped her arms around herself.   
“I hate this part.” She muttered to herself. Bellamy grunted as a response. After a few moments alone with Jess, James came over to Clarke with a somber expression.   
“She’s in pain, isn’t she?” He asked. The healer nodded. James looked back at the injured girl’s form and then to Clarke.  
“Can you end her pain?” He asked. Clarke nodded again, her lips a tight line. James sniffled, and thanked Clarke before retreating into the forest to be alone with his grief. Clarke was amazed at how easily he accepted Jess’s passing, but with the life of a pirate and a prisoner, he had seen plenty of death and pain.   
“Alright.” Clarke said, trying to get her feet to move towards the gasping girl on the ground. Bellamy stepped up behind her, and nodded encouragingly. She thanked him with a smile, and found the courage to make her legs move.   
When Clarke knelt down next to the dying girl, she started humming her lullaby, as she had with Atom. The familiar tune comforted the princess, and she hoped that somehow it would comfort Jess too. The healer removed the bamboo spike from her chest, and then used it to quickly end Jess’s pain so she wouldn’t die slowly by drowning in her own blood. Clarke finished humming her song as Jess’s breathing stopped. She took a shaky breath, and stood up slowly.   
“Clarke?” Monty called. The healer ignored her friend, mumbled that she needed to be alone, and walked off into the woods.   
“Shouldn’t we go after her?” Monty asked his Captain.   
“No. She needs some time. We have things to do here.” Bellamy answered. Monty hummed in agreement, and helped Bellamy dig a grave for Jess. Midway through, James took over the task and said he had to put her to rest on his own. The two let the man grieve and walked off to help look for food and water. 

Clarke had walked until she didn’t hear the campsite, and then walked some more. She wanted to distance herself from the terrible act she had to commit. Of course it was a mercy kill, but that didn’t make taking a life any easier. She reached a pile of rocks, and sat atop the highest boulder. With her head facing the sun, Clarke bathed in the warm light until she felt less cold inside and less guilty. It had to be done. After spending a few minutes on the boulder lost in thought, Clarke decided to return to the camp, except she hadn’t been paying attention when she had stormed out and now was a bit lost.   
“Why me?” She asked aloud, cursing her bad luck. After some wandering around in the forest, Clarke reached the beach again, and from there she worked her way back to the camp. The moment she stepped into the clearing, she heard a loud commotion, and saw many of the survivors gathering supplies and running around. It was the most excited she had seen them since the crash.   
“Octavia! What’s going on?” Clarke asked, grabbing the girl as she ran past.   
“Thank god you’re back! Jasper and the scouts returned! They found a place near a freshwater river and they say they’ve seen wild game around! It’s the perfect place to make camp!” Octavia exclaimed excitedly. Clarke started to feel the excitement as well at the thought of finding a place for a more permanent residence and for a drink of fresh water.   
“That’s great! Where’s your brother?” She asked. Octavia told the princess to follow her and led her to the far end of the clearing where Bellamy was standing with his officers and a pile of supplies. The fire had been put out, and the wounded were gathered up as well as the supplies.   
“Bellamy, what’s going on?” She asked. Bellamy turned, a single brow raised when his brown eyes fell on the blonde princess.   
“Welcome back. Jasper returned and he found a river and a better place for us to make camp. We’re leaving now. Gather your things and let’s go.” The captain said. Clarke met with Monty to discuss what had happened after she had run off, and was surprised to hear that Jess had been buried already.   
“I mean, now we’re leaving, but I’m sure she’ll be ok.” Monty said, stuffing his pack with supplies. Clarke just smiled and nodded, and grabbed her things as well. She strung her sword through her belt and marched off after the rest of the group, moving quickly towards the front.   
“Bellamy!” She called to the Captain, who was marching with Miller and Jasper ahead of the rest of the crew.   
“Hey Clarke! Glad to see you’re okay!” Jasper exclaimed, pulling her in to a quick side hug.   
“Same for you. So, how’s this new place you found?” She asked.   
“Perfect. If you’re going to be stranded on an abandoned island in the middle of nowhere, you’d want to be here.” Jasper said jokingly. The princess laughed.   
“A luxury island getaway.” She commented. The group walked in silence for another ten minutes, and then Jasper stopped them.   
“I would like to welcome you, to paradise!” He said, gesturing wildly with his arms as he swept back the branches of the trees. Clarke stepped forward and gasped.   
It was beautiful. The canopy of the trees parted to reveal a flowery meadow with birds chirping and the sun shining. Clarke could hear a river running down to the left of the clearing, and further back, by the horizon, was a mountain with a thin waterfall. The clearing was huge, and although there were a few trees here and there, there was plenty of space for the camp.   
“Wow, this is amazing, Jasper!” Clarke exclaimed. There were cheers and whistles as the rest of the survivors walked into the meadow, and it seemed like everyone’s spirits were lifted. All they had to do was start a fire, and start to build their camp. It seemed like everything would be okay for the pirates.   
How wrong they were…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All the comments feed my soul and I ask that you forgive any mistakes since I was so eager to put this up and I'm human.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! Life got in the way, and I had some writer's block issues with this chapter, but as a gift I give you chapter nine to celebrate the release of the season 3 trailer!!!   
> ANyway, check out my tumblr @an-upset-librarian cause I post little sneak peaks and such  
> So here's chapter nine and I hope y'all like it!

CHAPTER 9

It had been two days since the pirate crew had found their meadow. Two days of gathering supplies and wood to make small teepees or tent like structures for shelter, and using their swords to hunt down some of the rabbits and even a few deer that roamed the island. Clarke had inspected the river water and deemed it mostly safe enough to drink. There weren’t any visible signs of pollution, but just to be extra safe the healer tried to get the crew to boil their water before drinking it. Most of them didn’t listen, and she can’t say she blamed them. When she saw the running water she had to fight the urge to throw her face in it and drink. 

Clarke and Monty worked on making a large, tall structure to act as a roof for a makeshift infirmary. She had even collected large palm leaves to use as makeshift blankets and beds. The climbing involved in making the campsite and gathering supplies irritated her wound, which was still acting up at times, and Clarke could see Monty watching her carefully.

Octavia stopped by a lot to help make the infirmary, and was the official supply gatherer for Clarke and Monty. When they weren’t building their tent, they were treating the injured. A few of the crew had been injured while hunting, or while making teepees, but nothing major. Bellamy was the lead on the hunting parties, and Clarke had barely seen him since the beach. 

“Clarke! I found some more of those palms!” Octavia called as she ran into the campsite, her arms full of the large leaves. 

“Thank god! More people are asking for them for their own private beds.” Clarke exclaimed. She jogged to meet her friend and took some of the large leaves from her. They carried the palms back to the infirmary together, chatting about the success of the campsite. 

“Hey Monty, Jasper. We’ve got some more palms.” Clarke said to the two young men who were working on laying down the leaves for the roof of her medical teepee. They didn’t have enough supplies for walls, so it was just a large roof-like structure above the ground. It kind of reminded Clarke of one of the huge tables she used to hide under in the palace as a girl. 

“Awesome! I’ve been wanting some for my own tent!” Jasper smiled. Clarke grinned up at the workers, and ducked under the roof to lay the leaves down and wrap them together in string-like shavings of bark. Octavia did the same to her palm leaves. 

“They’re back!” a voice yelled across the camp. Clarke looked up from her task and saw the hunting party returning with some more small game. Bellamy was laughing with Miller, and the princess smiled at his cheerful expression. Despite the crew’s depressing situation, everyone seemed to be in high spirits. They had food, water, and were building their shelter. For now, it was good enough. The infirmary was located the furthest away from any other tents, since Clarke though her patients would like the privacy and she too liked having quiet to work in. 

“Hey Clarke, when was the last time you talked to my brother?” Octavia asked. 

“Um, I think it was when we first found the meadow. Why?” She asked in response. 

“I can tell you miss talking to him. And I know he feels the same. Go on. We can manage out here.” The girl giggled. Clarke rolled her eyes, but gave in to Octavia’s demands. She rose from her crouch, and pressed her hand to her stitches with a groan. She could see Octavia watching her carefully out of the corner of her eye, but Clarke pretended that everything was fine. 

“Hey Captain!” The princess called out. She strolled over to meet Bellamy and the rest of the hunting party by the fire-where they would be cooking the meat. 

“Princess. Long time no see.” Bellamy said with a smirk, nodding his head at her in greeting. 

“We’ve been busy. How’s the haul?” She asked. Bellamy shrugged, and gestured to the rabbits and other small birds and game animals littering the floor. 

“Decent. I’d like to get another deer soon though.” He replied. 

“Yea that’d be nice. We still have plenty of venison from the first one.” She commented. 

“How’s the construction going? I’ve been out of camp for a while these past couple of days.”

“It’s going. With Jasper and Monty’s help the roof should be done soon. We’ve collected plenty of those palm leaves for bedding if you want to snag some for your tent.” Clarke offered. 

“I will, thanks.” Bellamy said with a smile. Clarke couldn’t help but smile back. Her smile soon slipped away as her thoughts turned to the crew’s long-term situation. 

“Bellamy, I know nobody wants to think about it just yet, but what are we going to do?” Clarke asked quietly. Secretly she had been worrying over what was going to happen to the crew since the ship had started to sink in the reef. 

“I’ve been thinking about it too, but for right now the best we can do is just keep surviving.” He replied with a shrug. Clarke nodded and sighed in resignation. The pirate crew would have to make the best of their current situation.   
Clarke left the captain and his hunters to cleaning the captured game and returned to her makeshift infirmary. Jasper and Monty were laughing about something while finishing up the roof, and Octavia was nowhere to be seen. The blonde wasn’t worried about the younger girl. Octavia wandered off by herself from time to time and was more than capable of protecting herself. Clarke finished up organizing and grouping the palm leaves and decided to wander around the woods near the meadow to look for medicinal herbs or any kind of plant life that the crew could eat. Humming, Clarke sat and weaved a small basket out of reeds and the tall grasses by the river to hold whatever she found. Turns out being a slave in a prison camp had some perks, like learning basic survival skills and how to make something from almost nothing. 

Clarke continued her humming and wandered about the island, grabbing some flowers she thought were pretty and collecting some nuts she found. She mentally mapped where the nuts were for later, and continued her search. Birds chirped in the trees above, and insects buzzed around below to create a unique symphony one could only hear in the depths of the forest. The rushing of the river grew softer as Clarke continued her hike. Before she knew it, the sky was painted with the colors of the sunset and her basket was full of random herbs and nuts. 

“Guess I better head back now.” The princess muttered to herself. She returned to the camp at a slightly faster pace, since she did not want to get stuck out in the forest when it was dark out. Dusk had fallen by the time Clarke pushed her way through the trees and into the campsite, and Clarke had to resist the urge to eat all the nuts and berries she had collected. Humming softly, she made her way to her “tent” and placed the basket inside. She didn’t see Monty or Jasper by the infirmary, so she assumed they were eating already or causing some sort of mischief. 

“What’s for dinner tonight?” Clarke asked one of the crew, Fox, who had taken it upon herself to organize rations and meals with a few other girls. 

“Rabbit stew.” The girl said as she poured Clarke a bowl. One ladle full was the current ration for meals. Hopefully harvesting more nuts and berries would mean more snack foods for the crew. A morning and evening meal wasn’t much for these pirates to last on for long. Clarke sipped the warm water and drank down a few mouthfuls of the stew. She wandered around the camp to look for the Captain and tell him about the nuts and berries she had found on her mini adventure, and found him sitting by the campfire in the middle of the clearing eating his rations. 

“Hey Bellamy.” She said in greeting as she plopped down on the ground next to the captain. He grunted in response and continued slurping down his stew. 

“I found a patch of berries and nuts today. We can harvest those and keep eyes out for more like it. There’s bound to be more of those patches around the island.” Clarke announced. 

“That’s good. We could use the food.” Bellamy replied. 

“Oh, and when you were gone Smith cut his hand when he was cleaning a rabbit, but Monty took care of it. Seems like you’ve trained   
him pretty well so far.” Bellamy grunted. Clarke smiled at the news of her apprentice’s success.

“He’s a fast learner.” She said.

“You’re a good teacher.” He countered. The healer rolled her eyes and scoffed. 

“I was a terrible student. No way I can be a good teacher.” She admitted with a laugh. 

“Monty says otherwise.” Bellamy said, knocking his shoulder into Clarke’s. She ducked her head to hide her grin and finished drinking   
her soup. The campsite was filled with sounds of laughter and crewmates were scattered around the meadow in small groups laughing about their adventures or the day’s troubles. 

Clarke stood up and bit back a groan. All the bending over and work she had done that day was starting to make her wound throb painfully. 

“You doing okay, princess?” Bellamy asked knowingly. Clarke just muttered out a response and escaped to her tent. She removed her shirt and unwrapped her gauze to inspect the wound. The sutures were holding and the torn flesh only looked a little irritated, but there was no sign of infection. The healer told herself that she just needed rest and time for the wound to heal. She rewrapped her torso and donned her clothing with a tired sigh. Tomorrow she would take a group out to gather nuts and berries and to scout down the river, but for now she would try to get some sleep on the itchy leaves and cold ground.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Clarke woke up when the bright light of the sun shone directly on her eyelids. She groaned and rolled out of the suns piercing rays, but the damage had already been done. She was awake. With a huff, she sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Yawning and stretching her arms out, Clarke groggily exited her tent and observed the quiet morning. Most of the camp was still asleep, or wishing they were still asleep and clinging to the comfort of unconsciousness. Clarke was one of the latter. She slowly made her way to the food hut and snatched some of the nuts and berries she had gathered yesterday, popping them into her mouth. Her stomach desired a more meaty meal, but with rations low and population high, meat was kept for the evening meal until they hunted down some more. Only a few pirates wandered the campsite, since the sun was barely above the horizon. How it managed to wake Clarke was a mystery. Clarke was content to sit by the central fire and stoke the flames into a more suitable blaze for the day. The embers from last nights fire were as sleepy as the blonde. Clarke continued to eat her meager amount of berries and add wood to the fire to warm from the early morning chill. 

After a while, the princess felt herself start to doze off. Her chin was propped up against her palm, and she felt her eyes start to drift close. She so desperately wanted to return to the arms of sleep, since she hadn’t gotten much after the shipwreck. Those palm leaves were better than the cold hard ground, but not by much. She wished she could have a good nights rest, just like the rest of the crew did. Maybe they could go fishing for the beds lost with the ship. Clarke was deep in her own thoughts and didn’t notice the new presence at her side until he wacked her arm out from under her head, causing the sleepy blonde to jerk up suddenly. 

“Wake up.” A deep voice chuckled. Clarke glared at the pirate captain sitting next to her, and smacked his bicep. 

“What the hell, Bellamy?” She growled. Bellamy just gave her a cheeky grin and bit into a berry. 

“These are actually pretty good. I’m up for your little gathering party today if I get some more.” He said through the berries stuffed in his mouth. Clarke rolled her eyes.

“You’re more than welcome to join me. I haven’t even asked anyone yet. It’s too early.” She groaned, resting her head on her hands again. 

“That it is. I can see that you aren’t a morning person.” The captain joked. Clarke just glared at him again through the dirty strands of her hair. Dirt. Ugh. She was covered in grime. None of the 100 had bathed since the wreck, and swimming in the ocean did not count. 

“We should set up a rotation for baths in the river.” Clarke said with a disgusted grimace as she tossed her greasy hair out of her face. 

“Are you trying to tell me that I smell?” Bellamy asked with an incredulous smile. 

“Well, now that I think about it, yes. You smell.” Clarke replied. Bellamy placed a hand on his chest in mock offense.

“How dare you insult my pirate hygiene.” He exclaimed melodramatically. Clarke snorted. 

“Oh please forgive me, my Captain, I wasn’t aware that taking a dip in the ocean counted as a bath.” Clarke replied equally   
melodramatically. 

“I shall try to overlook this insult.” He said with a wide smile. The two started to giggle and Clarke gazed into the fire with a content smile. 

“Now I’m almost awake.” She said. 

“Good.” Bellamy replied. He finished eating his handful of berries and wiped his hands off on his pants. 

“When everyone wakes up, we can go gathering.” Clarke says to the Captain. 

“Sounds like a plan.” He responds.

“We should be quick about it though, it looks like it might rain later today.” Clarke commented, looking up at the clouds gathering in the sky. Bellamy grunted in agreement, chewing a handful of food. 

“And I’ll make a schedule for bathes. It hasn’t been getting too cold yet, so the water shouldn’t be too bad.” She says. Bellamy grunts in response and stokes the fire. Clarke sighs and gets up with a tired groan. She can feel Bellamy’s amused stare but ignores her captain. She makes her way to where the supply tent is and grabs out some more of the long grass she used to make her basket and carries it all back to her seat next to the fire. Bellamy is still sitting where she left him, content to listen to the sounds of the forest and the fire. 

“Here, you can help me make baskets.” Clarke says, throwing a pile of leaves at him. He looks at her like she’s grown a second head, and Clarke plops down onto the ground next to him. They’re facing each other, with the leaves in between them and Clarke has already started on her first basket, with Bellamy still staring at her. 

Clark looked up at him expectantly, and he sighed, “Clarke I have no fucking clue how to weave a basket.”

She smirks and shows him how to weave a basket slowly. He fails a few times, and his first basket stands for about two seconds before falling apart-to which he cursed the grass and gravity- but after a while he got the hang of it and both of them were constructing grass woven baskets until the crew decided to wake up. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright. So I found these over by the south end of the river, so we’ll head over there now.” Clarke said, leading her ragtag group of volunteers into the woods. The group consisted of herself, Bellamy, Jasper, and Fox. Monty wanted to stay behind and work on the huts, and most of the campers were already busy with construction or hunting. Bellamy had instructed Miller to take the hunting team out to try and catch some more game for the hungry pirates. Hopefully when the group returned there would be a large buck roasting on the fire and they would feast of venison and berries. Clarke sighed. Her highest dreams had become eating burnt, tough meat and random berries found in a mysterious forest. 

The group walked for about an hour, commenting on the river or the trees. Most of the time was spent in silence, since none of them   
seemed to have anything to say. Until Jasper officially woke up. About an hour into their trek he started relaying stories about their adventures and the silly mishaps that occurred on the ship. 

“So Monty and I are high as balls, right? And we’re trying to smuggle out all this contraband and drugs to the ship. Only problem is that requires walking and carrying heavy boxes full of stolen drugs. So we have the Drug Lord on our tails, and Bellamy is waiting in the harbor with the ship when we reach the docks. Somehow, the drug lord’s guys arrived before us and were trying to attack the ship. Of course meanwhile, Monty and I are struggling. The guns look like flowers and there’s a giant purple cloud following us chanting about finding the unicorn princess-“ Jasper retells enthusiastically. 

“Yea, and you finally make it to the ship, after you accidentally blow up the armory of the guard post and cause a distraction.” Bellamy interrupts with a sly smile. 

“Hey, who was telling the story?” Jasper whines. 

“Yea well story time is over. Time to start picking.” Bellamy said with a smile, nodding his head at the berry bushes they’d found. Jasper rolled his eyes, but complied with the captain’s orders. Clarke wandered away from the group to search for nuts and other herbs, and could hear Jasper’s laugh as he retold another adventure. Clarke couldn’t help but smile to herself at the silly stories he told. Even from her distance she could hear snippets of the ridiculous tales. 

“Hey Clarke! Come see this!” Fox called. Clarke turned back to the group, and quickly dumped her handful of supplies into her basket and made her way back to the group. 

“You should stop running off on your own.” Bellamy muttered to her as she walked past. She ignored the captain, and walked over to the shore of the river where Fox and Jasper were standing, Bellamy hot on her heels. 

“What is it?” She asked. The two were looking out over to the other side of the river, where Clarke could see a meadow full of berry bushes and nuts as well as some medicinal herbs she recognized. It was almost too good to be true.

“Holy shit, that’s like, the holy grail.” She said in awe. 

“I know right?” Fox replied excitedly. Clarke shared her crewmate’s enthusiasm, but slowly a frown dominated her expression. 

“Too bad it’s on the other side of the river.” She said solemnly. Fox groaned, and even Bellamy looked disappointed. 

“No matter, for I, the great Jasper, am here!” Jasper declared. He quickly looked up and down the river, before running a few yards downstream. The group stayed where they were, confused, as Jasper took a running leap into the river, landing on a rock a few feet into the rushing water. 

“Jasper! Be careful!” Clarke called out. Her heart had plummeted when she saw him jump, but now she could see the path he was taking. Jasper was jumping from exposed rock to rock and slowly making his way across the great river. He stumbled, and almost toppled into the rushing water, but quickly regained his balance. 

“You can do it Jasper! You’re almost there!” Fox yelled in encouragement. Clarke and Fox cheered as Jasper made the final jump to the other side of the river. He turned to face them, and took a dramatic bow, before standing and waving at them. Everyone was smiling and   
feeling hopeful when the spear hit. 

Jasper had turned to face the meadow when there was a dark blur that went right through him. Fox screamed, and Clarke’s hands went up to her mouth in shock. Jasper stumbled for a second, his hands wrapping around the spear sticking out of his chest, before a spurt of blood burst from his lips and he collapsed, his body unnaturally still. 

“Jasper!” Clarke screamed, rushing forward to try and swim across to him only to be stopped by Bellamy. The captain wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her away from the river. 

“Clarke we have to go! They could attack again!” He shouted as he yanked the blonde back under the cover of the trees.

“But he’s still alive!” She protested.

“I doubt it, Princess. We can’t help him from here.” He said. Clarke knew he was right, but her heart didn’t want to think about not having Jasper around anymore. His presence always managed to liven the mood, and he had plenty of jokes and stories to share. At that moment, while the trio took a minute under the cover of the trees to mourn their friend, the skies opened up and doused the island in a cold downpour. Clarke thought it was fitting that the storm started as Jasper lie dying. Even the skies were mourning his loss. 

They ran back towards the camp, but the rain was battering their skin. They could barely see five feet in front of them due to the rain, and the clouds were blocking out the sunlight. 

“We need to find cover!” Bellamy yelled. Clarke nodded, dragging a crying Fox along by her hand. She reached out to grab onto Bellamy’s arm, but he grasped her hand in his instead. Together they formed a line, and tried to find some sort of shelter from the storm. Luckily Bellamy spotted a cave in the mountainside, and they quickly headed toward the shelter. They stopped in the mouth of the cave, grateful to be out from under the cold rain. Clarke wrung out her hair and clothes the best she could, and collapsed against the cave wall. Fox was sitting against the opposite wall, her head in her hands and her knees drawn up to her chest. She was shaking, but Clarke suspected it wasn’t because of the cold. 

“Everyone okay?” Bellamy asked. Clarke nodded, and Bellamy took his pack out from under his shirt, where he had been trying to protect it from the rain. 

“I’m going to see if I can find some dry wood, or at least damp.” He said before heading back out into the storm. The girls waited in silence until he returned with some twigs under his shirt.

“These’ll have to do.” He muttered, pulling a piece of flint out of his pack. He drew a dagger from his belt and stroked the flint against the steel to get a spark to light a small fire. Clarke slowly got up, and explored the cave. It only went about ten feet into the hillside before ending, and there was scattered bones and branches indicating that some sort of animal had lived here. She grabbed some of the branches and brought them back to Bellamy, who had succeeded in lighting the small twigs. He grunted in thanks and added some of the wood to the fire. 

“We need to get out of these wet clothes.” Clarke said. She pulled off her shirt and pulled her pants off, leaving her in her chest wrappings and an undershirt and a pair of shorts. She laid the soaked clothes out around the small fire, and helped Fox do the same. Bellamy was left in his shorts, and Clarke tried not to admire his muscular torso too much. Bellamy stared at the numerous scars marring Clarke’s body in awe. She had countless scars, and was still standing and smiling as if nothing was wrong, and those were just the physical scars. Her bandage over the most recent wound was falling off, so she had ripped off the gauze and tossed it into the fire, saying something about it could finally be of use. The wound was still fresh and looked like it hurt like hell. Clarke could tell that Bellamy was looking at her scars, and she forced her arms to stay at her sides instead of covering up the worst of her scars. There were bullet wounds, and a few surgical scars along her back where the scientists had tortured her in Walden, as well as other marks scattered across her skin.  
The atmosphere in the cave was dark, and the trio sat in various places around the cave in silence, waiting for the storm to let up. It had been about an hour and a half already, and the rain showed no signs of stopping anytime soon. Fox had moved away from the fire and was curled up at the back of the cave, asleep. Clarke and Bellamy were sitting next to the fire, a few inches of space between them. Clarke sighed, and leaned back. 

“Looks like we aren’t alone on this island.” She said softly. 

“Looks like.” Bellamy replied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments/kudos feed my soul, and don't hate me for the cliffy and Jasper etc. I'm doing this for future angst :)


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait! I don't really have any good excuses, and that doesn't really matter. But here's chapter ten! Equal parts fluff and angst, so i hope you guys like it!  
> I sadly don't own the 100, otherwise bellarke would be canon and raven would be treated right

CHAPTER 10

 

              The sounds of Jasper’s agonized scream as the spear pierced his chest echoed in Clarke’s head, and the image of his body lying on the ground with a puddle of blood growing around him filled her head. Another friend dead. She dug her fingernails into the skin of her palms hard enough to draw blood and focused on the pain.

              She could feel Bellamy’s eyes on her and knew he was wondering what story each scar on her body had to tell. Maybe one day she would tell him, but for now she was thinking, no, planning. If there were people on this speck of land in the sea, they had clearly demonstrated that they were not friendly. Definitely hostile. The image of Jaspers body hitting the ground filled her mind again, and she winced.

              “We need to get back as soon as the rain lets up.” Clarke said quietly. She hadn’t wanted to break the tense silence in the cave, but they had to do something. Not only were they trying to survive stranded on an island without a ship, but now there were hostile natives attacking them. It really put a kink in Clarke’s plans.

              “We’ll have to build a fence, or some kind of barrier.” Bellamy said. She nodded, glad that they were on the same page again. The crackling of the fire was the only sound in the cave for another few moments. Clarke pulled her legs into her chest and leaned her head against them with her hands clutching her tangled excuse for hair. She felt Bellamy’s warm calloused hand rub her back, and she sighed.

              “We will survive, Clarke. We always do.” He whispered. The corner of Clarke’s mouth lifted and she turned her head so that she was looking into his warm eyes.

              “You’re right.” She said with a small smile. He smirked, and raised his eyebrow.

              “I’m always right.” He joked, getting her to scoff in response. He pulled his hand away from her skin as she straightened up. He hadn’t known why he reached out for her, and before he knew it his hand was touching her cool skin. She really was cold. The cool rain must have soaked right through her thin clothes, he thought. She reclined against her arms and Bellamy’s eyes were drawn to the gruesome circular scars on her abdomen. Her stab wound was still fresh and she had abandoned the soaked gauze when she removed her shirt, revealing the true state of her injury. He quickly looked away, not wanting to be rude, but the princess was already staring intently at him. She pursed her lips, as if she was considering something, and looked up at the roof of the cave.

              “You wanna know about them.” She stated. Not a question, but a statement. He didn’t respond, but he felt as if he didn’t need to.

              “In the prison camps, they use the prisoners as slaves and test subjects. Not only did we have to do hard labor for basically the entire day, while starving to death, but we were subject to their every whim. Guards take out their frustrations on us, and the white coats use us to test their new _inventions_.” Clarke spat the last word out as if it was poison. Bellamy stayed silent, knowing this wasn’t for his sake. Sometimes, people had to talk through their trauma to help recover, and this was one of those times.

              “Usually, at least at Walden, when the white coats take you, you don’t come back. Or if you do, you’re changed and end up dying soon anyway. You know when they’ve picked someone because for two days they are denied what is considered food.” A dark smile crossed her features, and she stayed focused on the dark ceiling above her. Her hands were shaking against the cave floor as she recanted her experiences.

              “Those scars you were just looking at are from a specific form of mutated worm. A flesh-eating worm. They wanted to know how much a person could take, and what would happen depending on where the worms were placed. Luckily for me they wanted to keep my alive to see the effects. That’s probably one of the only reasons I’m still alive.” Clarke’s lip quivered and she sat back up, and turned her face to the ground instead. Her hands started to scratch at her wrists, the pain helping her stay focused on the present rather than the tortures of the past. Harsh red lines started to appear on her skin, but before any blood could be drawn, Bellamy’s hand grabbed hers and pulled it away from the red, angry skin.

              Clarke looked up at him, pain clear on her face, and he looked at her, not with pity, but with understanding and acknowledgement. No, he hadn’t felt anything close to the physical and mental abuses she had, but he knew pain. And he knew how much she would hate to be pitied. He was the same, after all.

              “You survived. That’s all the matters.” He said earnestly. She blinked back the tears that filled her eyes.

              “What if not all of me survived?” She asked softly. Bellamy saw the fear in her eyes, and suddenly knew that she was afraid of turning into someone like Finn, someone who would sacrifice their humanity and others for themselves.

              “You _survived_ , Clarke. No matter what, I know you are still a good person, and still care about the wellbeing of others. Not even those bastards could destroy your humanity.” He replied, gripping her hands tighter. Clarke smiled and nodded. Their faces were inches apart, and he could hear her breathy utterance of thanks.

              “The same goes for you, Pirate.” She said. Bellamy scoffed and tried to pull away from her honest eyes. Clarke kept him rooted to the spot and leaned in, forcing Bellamy to meet her gaze. He didn’t deserve her kindness. He had become a monster to protect his sister. She wasn’t the only one with a dark past.

              “We all do what we have to in order to survive. It isn’t who we are.” She stated. Bellamy swallowed thickly.

              “If you have done something you regret or that is considered beastly, it’s okay. I forgive you.” She said. Bellamy’s lip quivered slightly, almost unnoticeable to the Princess if she hadn’t been up close. Bellamy looked at her with an emotion she couldn’t recognize, but she felt as though they had become closer. Part of her wanted to push him away again, to retreat back into her hard shell, but she knew that opening up was for the greater good. Especially if she was going to have to go to war for her people. She pulled away, retreating to her earlier position of staring at the fire and sitting next to the Captain. She saw him gulp out of the corner of her eye, and she bumped his shoulder with hers.

              They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, the fire warming their bare skin. The cold wind that came with the sudden storm would drift through the cave every once in a while, causing Clarke’s skin to erupt in goosebumps, but her clothes were still soaking wet and she would just have to deal with the slight chill.

              “I hope everyone at the camp isn’t in the same sorry state we are.” Bellamy muttered. Clarke smirked.

              “I don’t know how Monty would be able to handle getting soaked to the bone.” She replied.

              “Oh it’s quite a scene to watch. When we’re caught in a bad storm at sea, everybody ends up at least a little soaked. The water’s inescapable when it’s all around you, and Monty is one of the few that ends up looking like a grumpy, wet cat.” Bellamy said with a chuckle. Clarke giggled at the image of a soaking wet and grumpy Monty, but her laughter soon died as she remembered that she would have to tell him that his best friend had been killed.

              “How on earth am I supposed to tell him?” Clarke asked out loud. From her few weeks as a part of the crew, she had quickly learned that Jasper and Monty were practically inseparable, and the mere thought of one without the other was heartbreaking and fundamentally wrong.

              “We’ll do it together.” Bellamy replied. Clarke met his warm eyes, and her expression softened. It felt good to have a partner, someone she could trust.

              “This might sound strange, but I’m really glad you decided to pirate that cruise ship.” Clarke stated softly. Bellamy smiled, and ducked his head. Clarke avoided his gaze, and turned around so that she was facing away and slowly sank down onto the hard floor of the cave. She could feel the warmth of the fire on her skin, and she tried to relax. This wasn’t the first time she had slept on a cold, rock floor.

              “Me too.” Bellamy’s voice echoed through the cave, and Clarke closed her eyes, unable to remove the smile from her face. She could hear Bellamy plop down against the floor, and she let her body relax. The sounds of the rain and the fire soon soothed her anxious mind, and she succumbed to a restless sleep.  

                                                       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

              Clarke awoke not to the sun on her face as she had the day before, but to the sound of soft snoring and the feeling of a comfortable warmth surrounding her. She sighed in contentment and snuggled deeper into the warmth that was in front of her. Her eyes slowly blinked open and she blearily looked around her immediate surroundings. Behind here there was the cool cave floor, but in front there was a mass of warmth. She opened her eyes and met with the tanned and freckled skin of Bellamy’s chest. A blush immediately warmed her cheeks as she realized her predicament. She was cuddling into the captain’s warm chest and his arms were around her waist, keeping her locked in place. She felt his breath against the top of her head, and could feel his chin poking into her hair. Her immense sense of comfort and security kept the princess from acting, but she knew that if Fox woke up and saw them like this there would be trouble in the form of rumor, and if Bellamy woke up and saw this he would tease her endlessly. Clarke bit her lip in concentration and experimentally tried to push away from Bellamy’s grasp.

              The moment she pushed against his arms, he mumbled something in his sleep and pulled her tighter against his body. Her nose was poking his collarbone now, and Clarke’s face was even redder than before.

              _It’s okay…_ she thought, _if he wakes up, he might be as embarrassed as me._

              She took a deep breath and forced herself to roll and claw her way out of his hold until she was an entire foot away and his arms were off of her waist. She sighed in relief at her freedom, and ignored how cold she was now and her desire to return to Bellamy’s embrace. She told herself that she liked being held in his arms because she hadn’t felt that kind of warmth since Walden, and that it was her body’s natural reaction.

              “Ughh…” Bellamy’s voice rumbled. Clarke sat up and leaned back on her left arm so that she was looking down at the captain as he slowly woke up. His brow crinkled and he grimaced before his eyes opened. He blinked slowly and rolled onto his back, his hands rubbing his face.

              “Good morning,” Clarke said with a wry smile. It appeared as though Bellamy was as fond of mornings as she was.

              “…fuck…” He cursed in a raspy voice. Clarke grumbled in agreement, and looked over to see Fox still curled up in the back of the cave with her back to the couple.

              “It appears as though it has finally stopped raining.” Clarke observed, her gaze focused on the cave entrance and what little she could see of the woods.

              “And that the sun hasn’t even risen yet.” Bellamy said sourly. The blonde looked back at the pirate, who was seated in a similar position and glaring at the cave entrance. He didn’t seem to recall their previous physical _entanglement_ , much to Clarke’s relief.

              “We should get dressed and head back to camp. The crew is bound to be worried by now.” Clarke stated. Bellamy nodded, and slowly stood, groaning the entire time. He stretched his arms up over his head, and breathed deep-causing Clarke to pointedly ignore his muscular torso. Instead, she too stood up and stretched, groaning in pain as her wound protested to the movement. She looked down to inspect it, and noted how there was some dried blood crusted around the wound, and that there was fresh blood slowly leaking from the wound. She cursed softly and quickly donned her stiff clothing. She would take care of it when she got back to camp and sorted out the issue with the native islanders.

              Bellamy watched Clarke inspect her bleeding wound, and frowned when she ignored it and put her clothes on. He wanted to say something to her, to get her to care about her own wellbeing, but knew that she wouldn’t listen to him.

              “Fox, it’s time.” Bellamy called out to the girl curled up in the corner. She didn’t move. The pirate captain rolled his eyes and went over and nudged her with his foot. She rolled over and looked at him with tearstained eyes, then sighed and slowly started to stand. When the trio was all dressed and had gathered what little items they had, they set out.

              Clarke walked back to where she could hear the river, and they emerged from the woods near where Jasper had been killed. Clarke’s eyes scanned the opposite shore for any sign of his body, but saw none. Bellamy and Fox started to walk back down the river towards the camp, but Clarke stayed and scanned the shoreline. She was positive that this spot where she was standing was right across from where Jasper was struck down. She squinted, and saw what appeared to be Jasper’s goggles stranded on the forest ground, barely recognizable due to the mud.

              “Bellamy!” She shouted. She stepped a few feet into the river, until the water reached her knees, to get a better look.

              “What?” He said, jogging back to where she was standing with Fox right behind him.

              “There’s no body.” She said, pointing at Jasper’s abandoned goggles.

              “They could’ve taken it.” Bellamy said. “We shouldn’t get our hopes up.”

              “But he could be alive!” She exclaimed. Fox had her hands cupped around her mouth, and was staring blankly at the goggles on the opposite shoreline.

              “Our main priority is getting back to camp and making sure the crew is safe, and then fortifying ourselves and figuring what to do with the native population.” Bellamy said, reaching for Clarke. She pursed her lips, but nodded and grabbed his hand. He helped her out of the water, and they resumed their course back to the campsite.

              “If he’s alive, we have to help him. We should send a search party to scout the opposite shore for a sign of Jasper, and to see if we can find a grounder camp.” Clarke said as they walked.

              “We will send out a scouting mission to learn more about the natives, but Jasper is dead Clarke. You saw what happened, there’s no way he could’ve survived that.” He replied tersely. Clarke bit her lip, knowing that Bellamy was probably right, but she wouldn’t give up on the chance that he was alive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

              When Bellamy, Clarke, and Fox stumbled into camp, they were immediately swarmed by the crew, all asking questions.

             

What happened?”

              “Are you guys okay?”

              “There was this storm…”

              “…no cover…”

              “The rain ruined most of the tents!”

              “…then most of the supplies were ruined or washed away!”

             

              “GUYS!” Bellamy shouted, waving his arms to calm the crowd. Miller pushed his way to the front of the crowd and was about to speak when Bellamy continued.

              “We know the storm was bad, we had to take cover in a cave for the night and lost most of our supplies too. We’ll deal with whatever went wrong last night, and we _will_ survive.” He announced. There were cheers of encouragement from the crowd, until Monty stumbled out in front of Clarke.

              “W-where’s Jasper?” He asked softly. Clarke could feel her heart breaking all over again, and vaguely heard Fox burst into tears behind her. She stepped forward and gently held Monty’s shaking hands.

              “When we were gathering supplies, he crossed the river. Not even one minute after he landed on the opposite shore, a spear came out of nowhere and struck him in his chest.” Clarke’s throat closed up, and she tried to swallow the lump lodged within it. Monty’s eyes were filling with tears.

              “He’s dead, Monty.” Bellamy interjected.

              “No…nonononono!” Monty exclaimed, the tears falling from his eyes now. Clarke pulled Monty into her arms and held him while he tried to regain control of his grief.

              “That brings me to the next order of business. We are _not_ alone on this island. There’s a native grounder population, and they’ve killed one of our own. First thing we have to do is fortify our camp and set up a patrol to keep us safe. Then, we’ll send out scouting missions to find out more about these natives…these grounders.” Bellamy said. There were murmurs and shouts of anger and shock echoing through the camp at the captain’s words, and Bellamy once again had to raised his arms to calm them.

              “They attacked us!” Bellamy yelled angrily.

              “It’s time to work people! We will survive!” He shouted. There were shouts and cheers of agreement as Bellamy took Miller and Harper aside to start assigning jobs and gathering wood for a fence.

              “I’m so sorry, Monty.” Clarke said to the grieving man in her arms. She wasn’t used to this much physical contact for the purpose of comfort, and was starting to feel uncomfortable. Luckily, Monty pulled away and wiped at his eyes with a nod.

              “I want to help with the scouting missions. I-I need to see.” He said quietly. Clarke nodded and left to go talk to Bellamy to ensure Monty’s assignment to the scouting mission.

              “…mainly the trees around the camp, so we can have more visibility and can expand our camp.” Bellamy was saying to a group of about twenty people, all armed with an axe or some sort of weapon.

              “Bellamy, can we talk?” Clarke asked, gently touching his arm to get his attention.

              “One sec, princess,” He said to her before turning back to the people in front of him, “You know what to do. Chop down as many as you can, and make sure they’re tall enough to be useful for a defensive fence.”

              Miller lead the group of makeshift lumberjacks away and the captain turned to face Clarke.

              “What’s up, princess?” He asked.

              “Monty wants to be a part of the scouting missions, and I think he has a right to go.” She said. She could see the doubt in the pirate captain’s eyes, and knew he wasn’t going to allow it.

              “Look, his best friend just died, maybe, and I think he should be able to see where so he can say his goodbyes.” She said.

              “Look, I agree that Monty should be able to visit where his friend died so he can see for himself that he’s gone, but he’s too emotional for the scouting missions.” Bellamy argued.

              “Oh, and you aren’t? You saw what happened, just like Fox and I, and I _know_ that you are emotionally unstable like Monty. Maybe not to his degree, but you did see a friend die.” Clarke growled. Bellamy’s lip curled into a snarl and he grabbed her arm and pulled her to the tree line.

              “If you think for one second that I’m not capable of doing my job and leading these people, keeping them alive, then just say the words and I’ll tell them who you are _princess._ ” He spat, saying her nickname like it was a curse. Clarke’s mouth dropped open, and she took a large step away from the pirate in front of her.

              “Fine. Do whatever the hell you want. I don’t care. Not like I thought I was a part of the crew too.” She said, the hurt clear on her face as she stomped away. Bellamy cursed and punched the tree closest to him. He hissed in pain, and shook his hurt fist. The skin on his knuckles was ripped open, and it stung. Served him right, for what he said to Clarke. He knew threatening to spill her secret identity was going too far, but he had been so angry.

              “Bellamy?” A quiet voice called. The captain quickly turned, wanting to see Clarke, but instead his sister was standing before him.

              “Are you okay? I saw Clarke and Monty run off, is everything okay?” She asked. He hid his hand behind him and reassured Octavia that everything was fine.

              “How’s the supply gathering going?” He asked her. He’d put her and Harper in charge of going back to the shoreline to see what had washed on the shore, and what they could salvage while also gathering more berries and nuts.

              “It’s going good. We found some more weapons, and some clothes. But all the meat was ruined in the storm, so we need a hunting party.” She said. Bellamy sighed and rubbed his temples with his uninjured hand.

              “Alright. I’ll send out a few men to hunt.” He said. Octavia nodded, and suddenly grabbed at Bellamy’s injured hand.

              “Bell! What happened?” She asked. He grinned, in spite of the situation, because he knew that Octavia would be able to see through his poor attempt at deceit.

              “It’s nothing. I just had a fight with Clarke, and got angry.” He said, pulling his hand away.

              “It’s not nothing. Go to Clarke and ask for her forgiveness while also asking her to bandage you up. It’s good you injured yourself. Makes you look like a poor lonely puppy.” Octavia said with a grin. Bellamy chuckled, loving his sister even more at that moment since she always managed to make a bad situation better.

              “You’re right, again.” He said teasingly, rubbing his hand through her hair. She playfully shoved him away, and pushed him towards the medical tent.

              “I’m always right. Now go on.” She said, gesturing for him to start walking.

              “Alright, alright.” He laughed. Bellamy shook his head to himself, and made his way to the makeshift healer’s hut. It was a miracle that it hadn’t collapsed during the storm.

              “Clarke? Monty?” He called as he walked under the leaved hanging over the roof. There were bundles of leaves scattered around the ground, and a few supplies were spilling from those bundles.

              “Wrapping the supplies in the leaves…smart.” He muttered to himself. He grabbed a roll of gauze that had rolled out of a hole in one of the makeshift bags and wrapped his hand while looking around for a sign of his healer.

              “Clarke?” He called out again, being met with stark silence. Bellamy’s stomach twisted in unease, and he felt the worry creeping up his spine. He stormed out of the tent and scanned the clearing for any sign of long blonde hair.

              “Hey, Fox!” He shouted when he saw the poor girl sitting near the campfire. She raised her head at his voice, and blinked up at him when he approached her.

              “Have you seen Clarke or Monty?” He asked. She bit her lip, and quickly avoided meeting his gaze.

              “Fox…” He said, kneeling down to be face to face with her.

              “Where did they go?” He asked, already knowing the answer. Fox sniffled, and met his piercing brown eyes with her own teary ones.

              “You know where she took him.” She whispered. Bellamy’s jaw clenched and he cursed. He stood up and jogged over to where his first mate was chopping down trees a few hundred feet away.

              “Miller!” He shouted. Miller wiped his sweaty brow and turned to see his captain running towards him with a worried expression. He handed his axe off to another worker and walked over to meet his captain.

              “Captain, what’s wrong?” He asked.

              “Clarke. She took Monty and they’ve gone to see where Jasper died.” He explained. Miller’s eyes widened, and he turned to grab Deaton and instructed him to take charge and to keep everything running smoothly while he and the Captain went somewhere.

              “We should grab Harper too.” Miller said, as he and Bellamy marched back into camp and grabbed their swords. Bellamy just nodded and grunted in agreement. He could tell Octavia to keep everyone in line while they took Harper. The duo rushed to the shoreline and Miller went to find Harper while Bellamy looked for his sister to inform her of their current situation. He saw her helping to pull a large crate out of the ocean and onto dry land, and ran over to her. He quickly helped pull the crate onto the sand, and then pulled his sister away while the others inspected the crate’s contents.

              “Clarke and Monty ran off, so Miller, Harper, and I are going to go bring them back.” He explained quickly. He could see the confusion on his sister’s face, but didn’t explain any further.

              “Just keep everyone together and make sure they’re back in the camp before dark in case we aren’t back by then.” Bellamy instructed. Octavia nodded, and squeezed her brother’s arm comfortingly.

              “She’s gonna be fine, Bell.” She said. Bellamy just clenched his jaw and pulled his sister in for a quick hug.

              “Be safe. I’ll be back.” He said before jogging off to meet with Miller and Harper, who were standing at the tree line.

              “Let’s go.” He commanded.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

              Clarke and Monty were slowly walking through the forest, toward the river. Clarke had a pack full of whatever supplies she thought they would need based on what was available at the camp, and her sword strapped to her belt.

              “Come on, it’s right this way.” She said, nodding towards the river. Monty anxiously followed the blonde as she pushed aside some branches to reveal the large river. She led him down the shoreline until they reached a grouping of rocks and boulders that extended across the river. Clarke pointed directly across from where they were standing at a small clearing. Monty could barely make out the mud-soaked goggles she had told him about, and his breath caught.

              “That’s where it happened.” She said. Monty gulped, and walked into the river and onto the first rock.

              “What are you doing?” Clarke exclaimed.

              “I’m going across. Those are his goggles, and if he’s really dead, I’m getting them back.” He explained. Clarke huffed, but eventually joined him on the boulder.

              “Then let’s get them back.” She said, making sure her pack and belt were secured to her body. She leapt toward the second boulder, struggling to keep her balance on the wet surface. She looked back at Monty, and smiled encouragingly.

              “You aren’t alone, Monty.” She said, before jumping to the next rock to let Monty jump to the second one. They continued to hop from rock to rock, almost slipping and falling into the rushing water on more than one occasion, until they reached the opposite shore.

              Monty immediately crouched to grab the goggles and clean them off in the water, while Clarke took a defensive stance and drew her sword.

              “We have to be careful.” She said as she searched the tree line. The princess was putting on a brave face, but she was in a good amount of pain. She hadn’t re-stitched her wound after yesterday, and all the jumping and running had aggravated it and she could feel the warmth of her blood on her shirt. Luckily, she had changed into her dark blue blouse and leather vest so that there would be some pressure on the injury. She hissed in pain quietly, but took steady breaths to keep Monty from worrying.

              “Clarke!” A familiar voice shouted. She turned to face the side she had come from, and saw Bellamy with Harper and Miller standing on the river’s edge.

              “Bellamy?” She shouted in confusion. How had he caught up to them so fast? She figured that after their fight he wouldn’t look for her until dark, but there he was. Clarke still felt angry and hurt after Bellamy had threatened to reveal her identity. When he uttered that threat, she felt crushed. He obviously didn’t see her as a true member of the crew if he would threaten her like that. He knew how she wanted to earn the crew’s trust before even thinking about revealing herself to them. She knew how most of Arcadia felt about the royal family, and it wasn’t the love she used to believe.

              “What are you doing here?” They shouted simultaneously.

              “I’m here to get you! What were you thinking?” He yelled angrily. Clarke cursed and stomped up to the coastline.

              “I’m here to take care of a friend! Why on earth are you here?” She shouted in response.

              “I’m here to bring you back, obviously!” He yelled with a roll of his eyes that Clarke could see even from across the river.

              “Go fuck yourself, Bellamy! We’ll be back in a few minutes.” She snarled. She saw Miller holding back a laugh, and Bellamy’s look of shock at her words.

              “Excuse me? I’m the one who came traipsing out into _dangerous_ territory to get your sorry ass back to camp!” He yelled. Clarke was about to scream her own unique combination of curses back when a cry of pain echoed throughout the forest. Monty startled and stood with hope in his eyes.

              “That was Jasper!” He said. Before Clarke could respond, Monty ran off into the forest toward the source of the noise.

              “Monty wait! It’s probably a trap!” She called, chasing after him.

              “Clarke! What’s going on?” Bellamy called out. She stopped, and turned toward the trio on the other side of the river.

              “We heard Jasper!” She yelled as explanation before running off after Monty.

              Bellamy cursed, and jumped onto the first rock on the path to the other side of the river.

              “Let’s go, it’s probably a trap.” He said, leading his group across the tumultuous waters. When they all reached the land on the opposite side of the river, they started to follow after Clarke and Monty.

              “Bellamy! Wait!” Harper called out. She pointed to a light colored tree where there was a familiar sized red handprint.

              “It’s blood.” Harper stated. Bellamy nodded, and touched the wet handprint.

              “It’s Clarke’s. Come on, we have to hurry.” He said, running deeper into the forest, where they heard another cry of pain.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! To the real plot, well the first real arc. I hope you guys liked it, and follow me on tumblr @an-upset-librarian for previews and spoilers!  
> Comments feed my soul!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back? So sorry for the wait...I'm a terrible human being but here's a new chapter full of fluff and angst and I hope you enjoy!!  
> ALso, I changed the kingdom name to Arcadia, because that's a lot better lol.

CHAPTER 11

 

              “Monty! Wait up!” Clarke called out after she left the shoreline. She tripped over a branch and cursed as she hit the hard ground, sticks leaves pricking at her skin. She slowly stood back up, groaning at the pain in her torso. She placed a hand over her wound, and cursed again when she felt her warm blood soaking through the cotton shirt under her vest. She grabbed onto a nearby tree to pull herself up, and continued rushing after Monty.

              Another cry echoed throughout the forest, and Clarke picked up her pace. She suddenly ran into Monty’s back, almost knocking the both of them over.

              “Monty! What-“ Clarke exclaimed, grabbing onto his shoulders to right herself. She froze, however, when she saw what was in front of her.

              There was a pyramid of trees tied together into multiple tiers, with Jasper strapped twenty feet in the air to the very top tier. If that wasn’t bad enough, there was a deep, spike-filled pit surrounding the pyramid. Jasper groaned again, and a soft cry left his lips.

              “Jasper! We’re coming to get you!” Monty called, after getting over the shock of seeing his believed dead friend clinging to life. Clarke thrust her arm out and kept Monty from running towards Jasper.

              “Monty, it’s obviously a trap. We should wait for Bellamy and the others, then slowly make our way over.” She stated. Her eyes scanned the immediate area around the ‘temple’ for signs of the natives. There was a rustling behind them causing Clarke and Monty to turn and face the forest they had emerged from.

              Clarke held her sword out, ready to attack, pushing Monty behind her, but relaxed when a familiar angry man stomped out into the clearing with Miller and Harper behind him.

              “Bellamy!” Clarke exclaimed, dropping her sword and leaning on the blade.

              “Clarke, what the hell is going on?” He asked gruffly, his gaze locked on Jasper. Miller and Harper were in similar states of shock.

              “I have no idea, but it seems like a trap but we still need to get him down and back to camp.” She explained.

              “Jasper! I’m here buddy!” Monty called out, getting as close as he could to the spiked pit as he could.

              “…on…ty…” Jasper’s voice croaked. Clarke joined Monty on the edge of the pit and bumped his shoulder with hers.

              “Bellamy, we need a plank or something, something we can use to create a walkway.” Clarke said, turning to face the captain. He was looking between Jasper and the pit with trepidation.

              “Harper, Miller, scout the perimeter. Make sure we won’t get ambushed again.” He ordered, before walking up to Clarke. His eyes dropped to her torso, where her injury was currently throbbing and bleeding, and then back at her with a raised brow. She sighed, and looked pointedly at Jasper, telling him that they had more important things to worry about.

              “Either help me down, or help me find something to use as a bridge.” She said to him. Bellamy rolled his eyes.

              “Let’s go look in the forest for something.” He said, grabbing Clarke’s arm and pulling her with him.

              “Monty, you stay here and keep an eye on Jasper.” He ordered. Monty nodded, and stayed rooted to the spot, and his eyes on his friend.

              “Bellamy, let go-“ Clarke grunted as the pirate pulled her forcefully deeper into the forest.

              “What the hell? You’re injured and bleeding, and you think it’s a good idea to go traipsing around the forest and across rivers?” He exclaimed.

              “I was just bringing Monty here to grieve! I didn’t know that Jasper would be strung up like bait!” She argued.

              “I know that, but you’re still injured.” He said, his gaze lowering to where she was bleeding. She knew logically that he couldn’t see the blood staining the dark fabric under her vest, but she still curled her arms around her torso.

              “It’s nothing I can’t handle. We need to focus on getting Jasper back to camp safely.” She said, trying to change the topic.

              “And how do you propose we do that? It’ll be one thing to get him down, another to get him across that weird spike moat, and then-to top it all off, we have to get his unconscious, injured body across a raging river and somehow make it back to camp.” He growled out through clenched teeth.

              “Okay, I know what you’re saying, and it is illogical and almost impossible, but I’m going to do it anyway because a dear _friend_ of mine is strapped to some kind of pyramid with a gaping hole in his chest and is crying out for help.” Clarke said, stepping into Bellamy’s personal space until they were nose to nose. Well, nose to chin due to their height difference. Bellamy gulped at their proximity, but made an agreeable grunt and rolled his eyes.

              “Whatever you say, Princess.” He smirked. Clarke rolled her eyes, but smiled at the captain and together the two of them set off to find something that would work as a bridge or something to make into one.

              “Hey, Clarke! Help me lift this!” Bellamy called as he swept a few spare leaves and branches off of a smooth and elongated plank of wood.

              “What is that?” She asked breathlessly. The plank had carvings and scratch marks in it, implying that it was man made. It was about three feet wide and eight feet long, and a good ten inches thick with a slight curve around the edges. It was an impressive piece of craftsmanship.

              “Maybe it’s some sort of raft. The grounders could have made it.” Bellamy replied with a shrug.

              “It’s pretty heavy, so you grab that side and I’ll grab this one and we’ll somehow make it back to the others.” Bellamy said, bending over to grab his side of the wooden plank. Clarke nodded, and kneeled down to grab her side. She hissed in pain as her side wound protested to the movement. She saw Bellamy give her a worried look, but she forced a smile and together they slowly lifted the board.

              “Holy shit…you weren’t kidding.” Clarke grunted. Even with their combined strength, the board was still insanely heavy. Clarke started to carefully walk backwards while trying to avoid tripping on the various branches on the forest floor. Her side was throbbing and she gritted her teeth and focused on keeping the board up.

              “Monty! A little help!” Bellamy bellowed as they neared the clearing. Clarke could barely hear Monty’s crash through the forest as he ran to meet the struggling duo because of the sound of her blood rushing through her head.

              “Woah, what the heck is that?” Monty’s voice exclaimed from behind Clarke.   

              “A super heavy board that we need help carrying. Help first, ask questions later.” Bellamy grunted. Monty muttered but quickly hopped over to the middle of the board and helped hold it up while they walked into the clearing.

              “Let’s set it down here.” Bellamy said, nodding towards the edge of the pit. Clarke started to lower her side along at the same time as Bellamy, with Monty supporting some of the weight. Right as Clarke kneeled down to let go of the board, her torso her side screamed in pain, and she felt a gush of warm blood flow down her side. Cursing, she collapsed and clutched her gut. The board slammed onto the ground and she heard Bellamy and Monty exclaim in surprise.

              “What happened?” Bellamy asked, rushing over to kneel next to Clarke. Monty stood on the other side, keeping an eye out for Miller and Harper or even grounders. Clarke pulled her hand away from her torso to wave the pirate captain away but he grabbed her wrist and cursed when he saw the blood smeared on her palm.

              “You aren’t okay.” He growled. Clarke rolled her eyes, and tried to stand, but her legs gave out and she fell back onto the forest floor.

              “It’s okay. I’ll be fine. I just need to catch my breath.” She grumbled.

              “You’re not fine! Just stay put while we get Jasper. Miller will be back soon, so he’ll help carry him on the stupid raft.” Bellamy ordered as he angrily handed his jacket to Monty. He stripped off his shirt and handed it to Clarke then snatched his jacket back and put it back on. Clarke muttered her thanks and ripped it into strips. She took off her leather vest and wrapped the strips around her torso to help stop the bleeding, then retied the vest-a bit tighter to help staunch the blood flow.

              “Ok, so let’s push this think across the bridge, get Jasper, put him onto the raft, take him back to camp, and get him all fixed up.” Bellamy said with a sigh.

“Bellamy, we didn’t see any sign of grounders.” Miller said as he and Harper pushed aside the foliage and joined the group in the clearing, startling the trio. Harper didn’t question her Captain’s newly bare torso, but Miller glanced over at where Clarke was sitting, and raised an eyebrow at Bellamy.

              “That’s strange, but good. Come on, let’s hurry.” Bellamy urged. Together, he and Miller slowly pushed the plank across the spikes in the pit until it reached the other end.

              “I’ll go across first, and then hold the other side down for you guys. Monty, make sure this plank doesn’t move. Miller, follow after I get to Jasper.” Bellamy ordered. The pirate’s nodded in agreement, and Clarke grumbled about how she should be going across to treat his wounds. Bellamy shot her a look that said _stay put, I mean it._

She rolled her eyes, but huffed to signal her compliance. _But don’t think this’ll happen again,_ her eyes said. The captain just smirked, and then slowly walked across the plank. Clarke let out a sigh of relief when his boots landed on solid ground.

              “Hey Jasper,” She heard him say. Jasper muttered something unintelligible in response.

              “Miller, come on over. I’ll need your help.” Bellamy called out. He knelt down to hold the board still as Miller made his way across. Once he made it to the other side, the two pirates started climbing the tower and cutting the rope that was holding Jasper up.

 

              “So Captain, I noticed that Clarke’s injury has gotten the best of her.” Miller said softly, glancing pointedly at Bellamy’s bare chest under his jacket.

              “She’s too stubborn. Won’t listen to me or take care of herself. It’s…frustrating.” Bellamy growled through gritted teeth. Miller chuckled and said, “Sounds like someone I know.”

              “Oh shut it, Miller.” The captain said. Miller shrugged, but looked back at where Clarke was sitting and then back at the captain.

              “You worry about her.” He stated softly. Bellamy’s jaw clenched.

              “I worry about all of us.” He whispered back.

              “Yea, but not like how you worry about her.” Miller replied, bumping his friend’s shoulder in affection.

              “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me.” The first officer said with a smile. Together they slowly carried Jasper down from the pyramid and laid him down on the floor in front of the pit.

              “So, how do we do this?” Miller asked. Bellamy shrugged.

              “We wing it.” He answered. Miller laughed, which caused the others to look at him curiously. Bellamy picked up the injured pirate with a grunt, and gestured for Miller to walk across first.

              “Go on, I’ll follow.” He said.

              “No, you go first and I’ll hold the board in place.” Miller stated firmly. Bellamy glared at his subordinate, but Miller didn’t budge.

              “Fine. Be careful.” The captain relented. He adjusted his hold on Jasper and then slowly walked across the plank. When he was close to the other side, Harper reached over and helped carry Jasper.

              “Lay him down over here for now.” Clarke said, patting the grass next to her. Bellamy lowered Jasper down, and stepped back to let Clarke inspect him.

              “They treated the wound.” Clarke exclaimed in surprise. There was a strange herbal paste over his injury covered by a leafy bandage.

              “Probably so that he would live long enough to be bait.” Bellamy said. Clarke couldn’t help but grunt in agreement. Moments later, Miller hopped onto the ground next to Harper, and together with Monty they pulled the plank back to their side of the rift.

              “Let’s load Jasper up onto the board, and we’ll head back.” Clarke said, letting Miller step in and lift Jasper’s unconscious body onto the wood. The healer took a deep breath, and held one hand against her side as she tried to stand. The moment she got to her feet, she was overcome by dizziness and started to sway.

              “I gotcha, princess.” Bellamy murmured as he grabbed the shaking blonde. He looped one arm around her waist, and she wrapped her arm around his neck to support herself. Bellamy’s free hand reached up and grabbed onto the hand she had around his neck.

              “Thanks. I guess I’ve lost more blood than I thought.” She said with a breathy laugh.    

              “Don’t joke about that.” Bellamy said darkly. Clarke apologized, and squeezed his hand.

              “We’ll carry Jasper.” Harper said, looking over Clarke and Bellamy’s situation.

              “I’m sorry.” Clarke gasped out. She felt like she was just another useless burden that was hindering their rescue mission.

              “Don’t apologize, it isn’t your fault you got stabbed. Again.” Bellamy muttered angrily. Clarke couldn’t help but smirk at his words. Getting stabbed/shot was becoming a regular occurrence for her now.

              “I guess that’s the price of being a pirate, huh?” She asked jokingly. Bellamy snorted, but she felt him nod. The group of pirates slowly made their way through the dense forest and back to the riverbed, where they stopped to rest before attempting the impossible.

              “Okay…now what?” Miller panted. Clarke pushed Bellamy off and leaned against a nearby tree. She stared down at Jasper’s unconscious body and sighed. Miller, Harper, and Monty were all visibly tired, and Clarke knew there was a very probable possibility that they wouldn’t make it across the river.

              “Bellamy, I have an idea, but you aren’t going to like it.” Clarke announced. She quickly explained her plan, and he quickly proved how right she was.

              “No, there’s no way-you won’t make it.” He protested.

              “It’s a possibility either way. Either we do it my way and Jasper for sure makes it across, or we risk everything we’ve worked towards.” She argued with determination burning in her gaze.

              “It’s a good plan, Captain.” Harper said cautiously, trying to gauge how Bellamy would react to her words. He cursed under his breath and rubbed his temple, but eventually nodded.

              “Fuck it. You wouldn’t listen to me anyway.” He conceded. Clarke smiled weakly. She felt very woozy, like a palm tree swaying in the wind.

              “There ya go cap’n, let’s get it done.” Clarke said, patting Bellamy on the arm. He gave her a curious glance, and she carefully schooled her expression to a serious one.

              “Fine.” He said curtly. He and the others carefully lifted the plank and Jasper, then slowly approached the river. The rain from the day before had made the waters even more treacherous, but the pirates didn’t have a choice. Bellamy was at the head of the group, and he slowly started to sink into the water, step by step. The others followed, holding Jasper above the waves as best they could. Clarke held her breath as they waded across the rushing waters, each step taking them further and further downstream, yet also bringing them closer to the opposite shoreline. Clarke could barely stand anymore, and was being held up by the tree behind her at this point. She breathed a sigh of relief as the group climbed up onto the shore, pushing Jasper up to higher ground.

              “Alright, Princess. You’re turn!” Bellamy shouted over the sounds of the waves. Clarke took a deep breath, and stared at the path in front of her with trepidation.

              “I can do this…” She said quietly. She gathered what strength she had left and pushed away from the tree line, slowly stumbling to the river. She eyed the various stones jutting out of the water and took another deep breath. She carefully hopped onto the first stone, struggling to stand, let alone stay balanced on its slippery surface. She questioned her plan as she stood on that stone, wondering why she thought letting everyone else go first to carry Jasper while she was left alone to cross the river after losing a significant amount of blood would be a good idea. She took another deep breath, and launched over to the next boulder. She landed hard, almost tumbling into the river but she managed to right herself just in time.

              “Careful!” She heard Monty shout. Clarke glanced up at the worried pirates in the distance and shot them a nervous smile. She could do this. Only three more rocks to go. Clarke made it to the next one alright, but as her feet touched down onto the second to last stone, she felt her legs give in and she began to fall towards the rushing water. She crouched down and kept her balance centered around the stone and her knees hit the rock painfully hard. She had her arms outstretched to keep herself steady, and she shivered as the river water swept up against her legs. She vaguely heard her crewmates shouting in the distance, but the rushing of the river and the pounding in her head swarmed Clarke’s senses. With shaking legs, she pushed herself up and grimaced. Black spots blocked her vision. Her breathing was shaky. She could feel her entire body’s desire to just let go and go limp. Clarke fought the temptation and forced her legs to move and push her to the last stone, and then to the shoreline where Bellamy was waiting. His strong arms encircled her weak body, and Clarke looked up at him blearily with a small smile, and then promptly passed out in his arms, again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

              Bellamy carried Clarke bridal style, while Monty, Miller, and Harper carried Jasper on the makeshift cot. When Clarke had fainted after crossing the river, Bellamy had shouted curses towards the foolish girl in his arms and to this island for fucking them over. Even after the group of pirates were halfway back to the camp, the captain was still muttering curses to himself.

              They had to stop and rest every fifteen minutes or so because of how heavy Jasper was with the plank of wood. Every time they stopped, Bellamy would sit with Clarke in his lap and keep her steady. He brushed a strand of blonde hair out of her face and a soft smile lit his face. As morbid as it was, this was the only time Bellamy had seen Clarke looked truly relaxed, and it was because she had passed out due to intense blood loss and exhaustion.

              “Captain, we’re getting close.” Miller announced. He, Harper, and Monty were sitting propped up against a few trees a few feet away with Jasper in between the crew and the captain. The injured pirate was panting in a fitful sleep, and groaned in pain every once in a while.

              Bellamy nodded, and slowly lifted himself and Clarke up off the ground to continue their trek. The crew all breathed a universal sigh of relief when they heard the sounds of the campsite.

              “Hey!” Miller called out. Soon the crew had surrounded the pirates and helped carry Jasper into the campsite and to the medical tent. Bellamy, however, refused to hand Clarke over to anyone, and gently placed her onto a pile of bedding and leaves next to Jasper.

              “Monty, is there anything you can do for them?” He asked, knowing that Clarke had been slowly teaching Monty to assist her.

              “Umm, I know of some herbs that’ll help Jasper’s fever and fight off the infection, and I think Clarke mentioned a tea for boosting blood production or something. I’ll get started. Can you patch her up? I know her stitches are mostly gone by now.” Monty said as he rummaged around through the remnants of their medical supplies. He grabbed a few handfuls of herbs and various supplies and containers before running off to the fire in the middle of camp.

              Bellamy cleared his throat and awkwardly stared down at the pair of unconscious pirates.

              “She wouldn’t mind, it’s for her health.” He whispered to himself as he untied her vest and slowly lifted the blood-soaked fabric off of her skin. The vest stuck to the shirt and pulled some of the fabric up with it, and Bellamy had to gently tear the shirt away from the vest. He unbuttoned her shirt and slowly lifted it until her wounded torso was visible.

              “Damn, Princess. Good luck getting all this blood out of these clothes.” He muttered. He grimaced when he saw the inflamed, angry wound and mentally cursed himself. He shouldn’t have let her walk around, let alone go traipsing through the forest. He grabbed a cloth from the supplies in the tent and started to wipe away the blood and kept pressure on the leaking slice, muttering various curses as he worked.

              Monty came back with one of their remaining metal containers for boiling water, and Bellamy cringed when he smelled the liquid inside the pot. From what he saw when Monty poured the tea out into cups it looked even more unappetizing than it smelled- if it was possible. Monty handed one cup to Bellamy, and then slowly tilted the other over Jasper’s mouth, forcing the injured pirate to drink the revolting liquid.

              “Alright, don’t hate me for this.” Bellamy whispered to the unconscious blonde in front of him as he slowly mimicked Monty. His lip curled in disgust as he saw her swallow the tea. Once she had drunk the entire cup, Bellamy looked over at Monty expectantly.

              “Umm, now we clean and dress their wounds. Both of them should get an herbal salve to stave off infection too. We don’t know what kind of diseases are in this jungle.” Monty said nervously. Bellamy just nodded, and patted his crewmate on the back in encouragement. Together they worked on fixing up their friends in silence. Jasper would let out a pained groan every once in a while, but Clarke was eerily quiet. If Bellamy wasn’t watching her chest move as she breathed, he wouldn’t know if she was still alive. He grabbed her wrist and felt for her pulse, feeling his heart skip a beat when he felt the weak throbbing. She’s lost a lot of blood. It’s only natural that her pulse would be so weak, he thought to himself.

              “Alright, I think that’s good. You should check on the others, I’ll manage.” Monty announced as he put away the leftover supplies. Bellamy nodded and slowly rose from his knees, his eyes locked on the strands of blonde hair that had floated onto Clarke’s face.

              “Let me know if anything changes.” He ordered before walking away from the tent, the image of Clarke lying utterly still on the cot burning in his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! I hope y'all liked it! Please forgive any mistakes, i'm terrible at editing, and Comments and Kudos feed my soul!


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see....I'm so sorry!!!! I just kinda lost inspiration for a while, but I'm procrastinating and supposed to be studying, which is when inspiration strikes the best....  
> Anyway, here's a shitty filler chapter...but more shall happen soon...I swear...

Bellamy had assisted the crew with putting up most of the new fence after leaving Monty with Clarke and Jasper. While they were off on their surprise rescue mission, the pirates had worked tirelessly to fortify the camp, impressing even Bellamy with their determination and success. They had a tent full of supplies and food, and piles of lumber all around the clearing. Together, the pirates had started digging the holes for the fence posts around their target perimeter for the camp, and then started putting up the wall until darkness impeded their work when the sun had finally dipped under the horizon. Bellamy had left Octavia and Raven at the celebratory bonfire, after drinking a toast or two to their continued survival on this infernal island. Distant laughter echoed through the clearing as Bellamy moseyed over to the medical tent. He had sent people to check on Monty and the injured while he was working and was satisfied with the reports. Monty had told his “scouts” that Jasper was sleeping soundly, and not groaning as much and that Clarke’s wound had finally stopped bleeding, and that she was sleeping-but not as soundly as Jasper.

              “Hey, Monty. You should go rest,” Bellamy said as he entered the medical tent. Monty was barely keeping his eyes open when the captain walked in, and looked exhausted. Blinking back sleep, the pirate shook his head.

              “I have to make sure they’re okay,” He said before a giant yawn overtook him. Bellamy just raised a brow, and jerked his head toward the fire in the distance.

              “We actually accomplished a lot today. Go get your rations and then go to sleep. You’ve earned it.” Bellamy said, patting his friend on the shoulder. Monty sighed, and shot a worried glance to the two unconscious teenagers lying before him, his gaze lingering on his best friend, before nodding and slowly standing up.

              “I guess you’re right. As always,” Monty sighed. Bellamy chuckled, and playfully pushed Monty out of the tent.

              “But hey, take your own advice. Sleep man, you need it too.” Monty called out before retreating toward the campfire, whistling a tune as he went. Bellamy shook his head, and lowered himself onto the ground in between the two injured pirates. He stoked the small fire in the center of the tent and added a few spare logs to feed the flames. His gaze fell on Clarke’s blonde hair, and then to the worry lines marring her features. Monty was right. She was definitely not having a good dream. He smoothed the hair off of her sweaty forehead and wiped her face with a cool rag. Then, he checked on Jasper-making sure not to mess with the bandages. The fire flickered, casting shadows on the faces of the pirates and the inside of the tent. Bellamy moved closer to the warmth of the flames as the chill of the night air seeped in.

              “I’ll tell you what, princess, you sure messed up this time,” Bellamy said with a dark chuckle. He glanced down at her, and rolled his eyes in frustration.

              “I still can’t believe you went into the forest after ripping out your stitches and bleeding out. Let alone helping us rescue Jasper and jumping across a river. You’d think that since you’re basically the last hope for the monarchy in Arcadia that you’d have a better sense of self preservation.” He said with a rueful shake of his head. Bellamy sat in the tent in silence, save for the crackling of the fire, for a few moments.

              “I guess that’s what makes you the best possible queen we could ever have,” He said softly. The captain smiled down at Clarke with a new tenderness he never expected to have for the runaway princess. With a disbelieving scoff, Bellamy forced his eyes from the sleeping princess.

              “Not gonna happen, Bell. Just let her go,” He mumbled to himself. The captain grabbed his coat from the floor and rolled it into a makeshift pillow. He’d left it in the tent after helping Monty when they had returned earlier that day.

              “Alright you two, don’t die during the night, you hear me? That’s an order.” He grumbled before settling down on the hard ground to try and catch some sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

              Clarke awoke to humming. She kept her eyes closed, not wanting to come back to the harsh reality she was currently living. The humming continued for a few more minutes, and she could hear the sounds of tea being made and something being cooked. The smell of smoking meat reached her nose and she could feel the saliva start to build in her mouth. She slowly opened her eyes, seeing the bare ceiling of the teepee above her. She turned her head toward the source of the humming and the smell of the meat, and smiled at what she saw.

              Bellamy, the fierce Pirate Captain, was humming while roasting a stick of meat over the fire in the tent. He had only an undershirt and trousers on, from what she could see, and there was a pot sitting next to the fire. He was so domestic. The pirate captain was humming a tune while cooking breakfast…Clarke could hardly believe her eyes. She sat up slowly, wincing when her torso throbbed in pain. Sadly, she was almost used to constantly being in immense pain. The blonde crept up behind the pirate and startled him by jabbing him in the sides. Bellamy let out a curse and tumbled onto his side in an attempt to run from Clarke’s “attack.”

              “…the fuck! Clarke! What are you doing?” He exclaimed, sucking on his fingers since he had accidentally singed his fingertips in his attempted escape.

              “Just teasing, lighten up,” She said teasingly, grabbing one of the sticks of meat from the fire and ripping a piece off into her mouth. She hummed in pleasure as she chewed the juicy meat, the flavor exploding on her tongue. It had been too long since she last ate anything of real substance, and she missed it. Bellamy gazed over at the princess with a soft smile at her reaction to the meat.

              “Been a while since we’ve had any real food, huh,” He commented. Clarke nodded earnestly, still chewing on the meat.

              “I miss steaks. Big, juicy, meaty steaks.” Bellamy said with a sigh.

              “Don’t remind me,” Clarke replied, “I miss sweets.”

              “Hmmm. I would kill for some cake right now. Or even a good loaf of bread. I miss bread.” Bellamy stated. Soon both of the pirates were lost in a food fantasy, drool slowly making its way down their chins at the thought of real food.

              “You’re making me so hungry,” Clarke groaned. Bellamy chuckled, but agreed with her. How much longer would they have to survive off of nuts and berries and the occasional deer? It wasn’t sustainable.

              “What are we going to do?” Clarke asked, her thoughts heavy.

              “About which issue? The grounders? The food shortage? The defenses? Or the fact that we have no way off of this godforsaken island?” Bellamy snarled. The healer looked over at him with sympathy, and leaned her shoulder against his for comfort.

              “It sucks, but we’ll survive. We have to.” She said. Bellamy just nodded, knowing she was right, but still not happy about their current situation. He could tell Clarke wasn’t either, based on the frustration dwelling in her eyes, but they would have to deal with it for now.

              “One problem at a time,” He sighed. Clarke hummed in agreement and finished eating her meat ration. Bellamy grabbed the pot of tea that had been sitting next to the flames and poured some out in one of the spare cups left from the wreckage and handed it to Clarke.

              “Monty said this’ll help with the pain and healing,” He explained. She grimaced, but gulped the distasteful tea down anyway. That was when she noticed Jasper still lying unconscious on a makeshift cot a few feet away.

              “Shit.” She muttered. The blonde crawled over to her friend and unwrapped his bandage to check out how the wound was faring. Her gaze narrowed as she saw the primitive but effective healing techniques the Grounders had administered. His wound did not appear to be infected, and Monty had stitched it closed nicely.

              “How’s he doin’, doc?” Bellamy asked from his perch above Clarke’s shoulder.

              “Doesn’t appear to be infected, and Monty did a good job stitching him up. With enough rest he should recover nicely. Plus, he’ll have a badass scar.” She answered. Bellamy chuckled at her words, shaking his head in disbelief.

              “I can’t believe he survived,” He said in astonishment.

              “You and me both,” Clarke replied. They both looked down at their wounded and unconscious companion with softness in their gazes.

              “He is totally going to milk this story. We’ll never hear the end of it.” Bellamy commented with a chuckle. Clarke laughed, and agreed with him. During the short time she had known Jasper, she had learned of his melodramatic tendencies.

              “I should go find Monty. Jasper should wake up soon, I think, and Monty should be here for that,” Clarke said nervously. Truthfully, she just wanted to get out of that teepee and go off into the woods to be alone for a few minutes. Seeing Jasper alive due to the fact that she abandoned him to the Grounders had disturbed her. If she had rescued him right after he was stabbed, he most likely would have died and that was not okay with the healer.

              “Sounds like a plan. Let’s go. You should see all the improvements we’ve made anyway,” Bellamy said. Clarke was about to ask to go alone, but Bellamy gave her a look that said: you’re not going anywhere alone just yet, and she silently relented.

              Bellamy was not going to let Clarke wander off on her own again, since last time she almost bled out and died- not to mention all the other times she had gotten herself in danger when she went off on her own.

              The duo left the tent, and Clarke was astounded at the sight around her. The camp was almost unrecognizable. There was a large wooden fence around about two thirds of the campsite so far, and she could see farther out into the forest due to the amount of lumber the pirates had collected from the immediate forest, and there were more and more tent structures popping up in the meadow-some were already finished and others were in varying stages of construction.

              “How long was I out?” She asked breathlessly. Bellamy let out a laugh.

              “We pirates tend to get shit done. You were only out for about half a day. You passed out yesterday in the afternoon, and it’s still late morning right now.” He said. Clarke whistled in shock. She couldn’t believe that in the past few days since their crash that the crew had gotten so much done. When she thought about it, however, she realized it wasn’t as if they had better things to be doing.

              “This is amazing,” She exclaimed with a smile. She could see Bellamy laughing at her enthusiasm, but she didn’t care. They had come so far since that hellish day when the ship had crashed into the reef and sank, dragging down beloved souls with it. As Clarke made her way through the camp towards what Bellamy said was Monty’s tent, most of the pirates came up to greet her and give her a hug. Everyone was smiling despite the situation, which she assumed was due to how productive they had been in the past few days. Clarke was holding her side after she had walked across about half of the compound, which Bellamy most definitely noticed. He kept glancing over at her periodically and each side eyed look made Clarke even more frustrated. Bellamy quickly stepped in front of the princess to push aside the palm fronds that had been used as a door to let her in.

              “Hey Monty!” She called out, easily spotting him dozing in the corner of the small space. He jerked awake at her voice, and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “Wha- Oh! You’re awake!” He exclaimed as he jumped up to his feet and pulled her into a warm embrace.

              “Thanks to you,” She said, returning his hug after a brief pause. He merely smiled sheepishly and shrugged. “All in a day’s work.” He replied.

              “Oh, and if you’re okay with sleeping in the medical tent, Jasper should be waking up soon. I figured you would want to be there for him.” She said, smiling at the excitement that lit Monty’s face.

              “You bet your ass I’m going to be there! Someone has to chew him out for being so reckless.” Monty said as he quickly grabbed his supper rations and rushed out of his tent, leaving the two leaders alone to contemplate their island situation. The moment Monty cleared the tent flaps, Clarke eased her way to a sitting position on his bed of palm fronds and furs with a groan. Bellamy rolled his eyes, and helped her get comfortable.

              “Just imagine, if you had let that wound heal right the first time and rested, you wouldn’t be in this predicament.” He muttered snidely. The princess shot him a glare, and he just glared back at her. He was right, but she would never admit it.

              “I just have to rest for a minute, then we can get back to exploring the camp.” She grumbled, massaging her sore side. Bellamy rolled his eyes, again, and grabbed a twig from the ground, then moved so he sat across from her. He cleared a patch of dirt, and started to draw. He started with a large circular shape, and then started marking out smaller sections within the circle and a few landmarks outside of its barrier.

              “What is that?” She asked, pointing to a random squiggly line near her knee.

              “It’s the river. Not all of us have your art skills.” He quipped. She laughed, but held back her other critiques.

              “Okay, so I assume you’ve gathered that the big circle is us. This square is your infirmary, and there in the middle is the bonfire. We’re planning on making a few guard posts along the perimeter, and over here is our supply tent. Right next to it is the meat hut. And scattered out around the campsite are various huts that the crew have built for themselves.” Bellamy explained, using his twig to point to the various sections of the map. Clarke stopped listening to his explanation about halfway through to focus on Bellamy’s tanned face, appreciating every last one of his freckles. His dark hair curled loosely around his face, and was in desperate need of a trim. She liked how it was long and curled around his ears, but after a few weeks without a cut, it was starting to look a little scraggly. His dark eyes shone with pride as he talked about the crew’s success over the past few days. Clarke felt her heart flutter as he glanced up and locked eyes with her, shooting her an amused smirk. Her mind went blank for a few seconds.

              “U-um…” She sputtered, “where should I sleep tonight?” The captain pretended to ignore her embarrassment and just shrugged, “Why not the infirmary?”

              “Monty is there, and I don’t want to intrude. Besides, I think I should have my own tent separate from the infirmary.” She retorted.

              “Fine, but you can’t do anything but rest for the next few days, so you’ll have to stay with me in the meantime.” Bellamy replied. She gaped at the bold declaration.

              “Stay with you?” She exclaimed.

              “Of course. You’re a princess, and I’m a captain. I can protect you,” He said with a devilish smirk, “besides, I’m not letting you out of my sight anytime soon.”

              Clarke touched her injury and pursed her lips. From the look on his face, Bellamy wouldn’t be budging any time soon on this new rule of his. Fine. She could play along. Now it would be a game of who could annoy who the best, and Clarke was not used to losing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all enjoyed this short and sweet chapter, and as always, COMMENT!! It feeds my soul!!!  
> Plus a comment recently got me thinking about this story again, so it helps!!!!
> 
> Oh! ANd check out my tumblr @an-upset-librarian for teasers and original story ideas that I'm working on!! 
> 
> Thanks lovelies!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New chapter! I know there was a bit of a break again, but it wasn't as bad...besides I have college responsibilities to procrastinate...  
> Anyway, it's weird to think that I started this story in junior (?) year of highschool? And now I'm in college...
> 
> Pushing aside any existential crises, please read and review!

              “Oh, I don’t know Bellamy! Some goddamn peace and quiet maybe?” Clarke yelled as she stormed out of the tent she was somehow still sharing with the pirate captain.

              “Well, wouldn’t that be nice!” bellowed the captain’s voice from within the tent. The pirates that had gathered around the fire to ward against the morning chill sighed and shook their heads. The sounds of their two leaders arguing had become common background noise as of late, much to the pirate crew’s dismay. Despite their constant bickering, Clarke would always return to Bellamy’s tent, and some swore they saw the two embrace and apologize.

              A few turned their head to watch Clarke storm out into the woods with her pack, likely going to hunt down some herbs and berries. A few minutes later, Bellamy emerged from his tent, his face tight with anger. He would yell at the nearest pirate to go out and follow Clarke and make sure she was okay, and then go back into his tent after gazing out into the forest where the healer had disappeared.

              It had been a week since Clarke had returned with Jasper, and it was a few days after their return when the arguing began.

             

 

Clarke had been resting since she awoke after her daring rescue mission, and for once was happy to take a few steps back and let Bellamy take care of her. He would bring her scraps of food, and she would care for some of the minor wounds the crew suffered as they built up the camps defenses or hunted for meat-which Bellamy tried to pass onto Monty until Clarke screamed about she needed something to do or she would go insane.

They hadn’t seen any activity from the mysterious natives yet, and the calm was making both Bellamy and Clarke anxious. They had almost finished their perimeter fence and there was round-the-clock surveillance of the forest surrounding the meadow the pirates had claimed as their home since being shipwrecked. She had suggested guard towers one morning and the next thing she knew Miller was working with some of the burlier men to start building watchtowers. Somehow since she had been forced to join these pirates, only a little over a month ago, she had become almost a co-captain. Whenever Octavia brought up how Bellamy only had ears for her ideas she had blushed and denied her obvious leadership position. Part of her knew that Bellamy listened to her because of her royal heritage, not because he trusted her enough to consider her a true leader.

              The first night she spent in his tent was full of awkwardness. Clarke had brought some pelts and palm leaves to make her own bed, but the tent was so small that they ended up having to form one bed. The princess was the first to lie down, and after walking around all day and helping to carry supplies across the camp she was exhausted. Bellamy was more hesitant to join her, but after she insisted that she wouldn’t bite he relented with a chuckle. They fell asleep relatively easily, but Clarke awoke to have Bellamy’s arm protectively thrown over her stomach. She teased him for his cuddling attempts, commenting on how such a burly pirate captain was a giant teddy bear at heart, and Bellamy just grumbled and sauntered away.

              By the third night, Clarke had become more comfortable with Bellamy’s presence beside her, and she woke the next morning to rumbling laughs from her partner. During the night, she had pressed up against the captain and wrapped her arms around his torso. It was her turn to be embarrassed that day. That morning they had their first big argument. Clarke wanted to go out and explore outside the fence for more medicinal herbs, but Bellamy prohibited it, declaring that she was still too weak to go outside the gates and needed more rest. As the days passed on, their arguments got more and more intense, and instead of arguing over important leadership business- like what to do about the grounders or food rationing- they argued over sleeping arrangements and how Clarke’s sigh was too melodramatic, or Bellamy’s silence too obnoxious.

              The crew was sick and tired of the petty fights, and Octavia had decided to take matters into her own hands. She knew her brother, and she knew that he was falling for the blonde princess, no matter how many times he tried to deny it. After Clarke stalked off into the jungle, she approached her concerned older brother and bumped his arm with her shoulder as a greeting.

              “Hey, O,” He mumbled. She snaked her arm around his and pulled him along to walk in the opposite direction of the woman that had captured his affection so thoroughly. “What did you two argue about this time?”

              “Nothing really. It was my fault,” He answered with a dejected sigh. Octavia raised a brow and tried to conceal her smile. The brother she knew would never admit fault in anything.    

              “Ah, well if it was truly nothing of importance, do you think that I can steal her away from you for one night?” She looked up at her brother through her dark lashes, blinking innocently up at his concerned face. She had perfected the doe eyes years ago, and could make Bellamy do almost anything with one look.

              “That depends, what do you have in mind?” He asked, suspicion lacing his tone.

“Oh, well nothing _major._ Just drinking with some of the guys.” She drawled.

              It was his turn to raise a brow, and Octavia smirked, “I know that Phillip has a…special interest in Clarke and I thought, being the _amazing_ friend that I am, that I should properly introduce them.”

              “Phillip? That womanizer?” Bellamy exclaimed, pulling away from his sister’s grasp. Octavia feigned innocence, once again drawing on the power of the doe eyes to persuade her older sibling.

              “Well shouldn’t Clarke get to know the crew better?” She asked. Bellamy made a sound of distaste, but agreed after a moment’s hesitation. Octavia grinned widely at her brother’s jealous reaction, and skipped away while calling out, “Don’t worry! I’ll be there to take care of her for you.”

              She could have sworn that she heard him mutter out an obscene combination of curses, even for a pirate, as she skipped away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

              After she stormed out of the campsite, Clarke took a few minutes to sit on a large boulder in the sun and calm her mind. It had been a silly fight. She knew that she wasn’t even mad at Bellamy, but rather the situation they were in. With no sign from the natives, and no ship to sail back to freedom with, the camp was taut with tension. Clarke had just snapped at Bellamy after he made some silly sarcastic comment on something she didn’t even remember. If that didn’t show how petty she had acted, she didn’t know what would.

              Sounds of someone crashing through the forest behind her had Clarke reaching for the knife she kept in her boot, but she relaxed when she saw the familiar face of her usual sentry during her outings beyond the safety of the camp.

              “Hey, Craig,” She greeted from her spot on the boulder. Craig smiled back up at her, his curly red hair framing his tan freckled cheeks. Craig was a good six inches taller than her, but from what she could tell from their short interactions he was a silent sweetheart. She had no idea how such a quiet and kind man became a pirate, but she guessed it had something to do with the corruption of the monarchy in Arcadia. Most of her kingdom’s citizens had turned to lives of crime because of the changes made after her father’s death, and subsequently her imprisonment.

              Craig just looked at Clarke with silent expectation, as if saying, “what in the world are you doing up there?”

              “I happen to like it up here, but you’re right. I should probably go back,” She said as she hopped off her perch and landed a few feet away from Craig. His hand was resting on the pummel of his sword, and Clarke realized that she had forgotten her own sword in her tent that morning. A foolish mistake that could lead to disaster. This forest was crawling with natives even if they hadn’t found a hide nor hair of their civilization yet. The only proof she had seen of the grounders was inside her friend Jasper. The primitive healing techniques of these people had saved her friend, but they were the reason he had been so brutally wounded in the first place. Clarke had mixed feelings about the natives, but without any sort or attempts at communication she couldn’t decide whether they were allies or enemies.

              “Come on, let’s head on back. We have plenty of supplies for now,” Clarke said, starting their trek back to the campsite. Craig shook his head and gave out a tired sigh.

              “Don’t worry, I’ll sort things out with the captain when we get back,” She grumbled in response to his silent question. Clarke was climbing over the tangled roots of an impressively large tree when she heard it. A snap and a crunch, then a haggard gasp and a thud.     

              She whirled around, crouching down to reach for her knife, and cried out when she saw what had happened. Craig was slumped on the ground, an arrow sticking out of his back. She reached out for her friend when another arrow pierced the tree bark next to her face, shooting shards of wood into cheek. Clarke lowered herself even more into the protection of the roots around her, pressing her side against the trunk of the tree. She stole a glance at Craig, and knew he was dead. He hadn’t moved since she saw him last, and there was too much blood staining the grass around them for him to still be alive.

              “May we meet again,” She muttered, the one comfort she could give his poor soul, before she clutched her knife close to her chest and darted out of her hiding place and ran towards the camp. She didn’t turn back when she heard another arrow strike the branch of a tree above her head, or when one grazed against her calf. She cursed when she stumbled, knowing that her only chance of survival was to make it back to the fence as soon as she could.

              She leapt through the trees, keeping her movements as random as she could so that the shooter had a harder time of aiming on her. She heard footsteps crashing through the forest behind her, and Clarke almost screamed in frustration. She was so close to the gate. A part of her wanted to flee in another direction and lead her attackers away from her home and her people, but she knew that the grounders were aware of their camp since they killed so close to their borders. Clarke’s lungs burned and her side ached when she finally saw the familiar wall in the distance.

              “Grounders!” She screamed. She waved her arms frantically and tried to get someone’s attention as she ran through the forest. “We’re under attack!”

              She was a few yards away from the open gate when she saw Miller’s confused face peek out from inside. “Close the gate! We’re under attack!”

              Realization finally dawned on his face and he drew his sword with one quick motion, and called out for reinforcements. An arrow pierced the ground behind her ankle, and Clarke pushed herself faster. The gate was beginning to swing closed in front of her. Another arrow grazed against her arm, and Clarke winced. She ran past the gate, sliding to a stop inside the safety of the camp. She turned and quickly lunged to help the pirates push the heavy gate completely closed. Her knuckles were white against the dark handle of her knife. Panting, Clarke leaned against the cool wood and cursed.

              “What happened?” Miller asked, pulling her away from the wall and deeper into the meadow. Clarke paused to catch her breath, the few crew members that were out and about running toward her or to the gate to peer out some of the openings.

              “They killed Craig,” She spat. Anger boiled in her veins, and she stormed back to the gate to peer outside the main window between the logs. Only empty forest gazed back at her. From what she could tell, the grounders had left or were hiding deeper in the trees beyond.

              “Clarke!” A voice boomed. She turned, and was immediately pulled into the captain’s warm embrace. The moment his arms wrapped around her, Clarke melted. The adrenaline slid out of her, and she relaxed into his arms. Her nose nuzzled the crook of his neck and she slid her arms around his waist.

              “Bellamy,” She breathed out his name in a sigh, her muscles relaxing. She couldn’t help but wince when the pain from her injuries finally registered in her mind. Bellamy pulled away at the sound and held the princess at arms-length and inspected her for injury.

              “I’m fine, Bellamy,” Clarke whispered despite the blood rolling down her ankle. The cut on her arm was superficial but the graze on her leg was more serious.

              “What. Happened.” A demand, not a question. Clarke slid her knife back into her boot and walked with Bellamy to the bonfire in the middle of the camp, retelling what occured as they walked.

              Bellamy’s arm was draped around her waist to help Clarke limp over to the campfire, despite her protests that she could walk fine on her own.

              “Miller, I want ‘round the clock surveillance of the forest, and make sure everyone is back inside these walls. Nobody goes in or out unless I say so,” Bellamy ordered, his crewmates scrambling to obey. He sat Clarke down onto a stump and knelt in front of her to inspect her injured calf.

              “I’m fine, really. It’s just a scrape,” She grumbled, wincing when the pirate captain poked at the cut. “I don’t care,”

              “Clarke!” Octavia called out, running up to pull the wounded princess in a fierce hug just like her brother had done mere moments ago. The healer smiled and returned the girl’s embrace. Octavia released her when Bellamy growled about her wound and pulled the princess back onto the stump. Octavia stared at the various pirates running about the once calm meadow, each strapping weapons onto their bodies.

              “Is it true, are the grounder’s back?” She asked, eyes wide with fear. Clarke nodded, a grim expression on her face. She cursed when Bellamy started to wrap her calf while Clarke was trying to tell Octavia what had happened, making the pirate captain chuckle in amusement.

              “Yes, it appears they are,” Clarke replied, glaring down at the man in front of her, “but we will survive. We always do.”

              Bellamy smiled up at her, then stood in a swift motion and dusted his hands off on his pants. Clarke inspected his handiwork, and made a grunt of approval.

              “Octavia, could you do me a favor and run and get my sword?” She asked as she stood on unsteady feet. Bellamy moved to grab her, but she pushed away his arms.

              “If I could run through the forest with this thing then I can stand,” She muttered, stalking off towards the gate where Miller and most of the crew were standing with their weapons drawn.

              “Anything?” She asked as she approached the gate with Bellamy hot on her heels. Miller glanced behind her at his captain, nodded, then looked down at Clarke and said, “Nothing yet.”

              She knew she shouldn’t be offended by how he looked to Bellamy for approval before speaking to her, but she couldn’t help but grimace at the dark envy that coiled in her chest. Bellamy was their captain, and she was just the healer- who happened to be the missing princess of a corrupt royal family that everyone hated.

              “Do you think they’re still out there, watching us?” Clarke asked Bellamy. He stepped up beside her and answered, “We won’t know until we send out scouts to bring back Craig’s body.”

              The healer sucked in a breath at the mention of her late companion’s name, her mind filling with the memories of his final moments. She vowed to take revenge against the grounders for attacking them unprovoked. The pirates hadn’t done anything to hurt the natives, while they had attacked without precedent twice now. In her mind, killing one of their own with no reason was an act of war. She said as much to the captain, who agreed wholeheartedly.

              “Clarke, here’s your sword,” Octavia said as she skidded to a stop in front of her and the other pirates. She smiled in thanks and quickly tied her sword belt around her waist, then drew the magnificent blade. Despite the tense situation, a few of the crew whistled in awe at the glorious weapon. The princess stormed up to the gate, and peered out of the peephole. She cursed when she too saw despairingly empty forest beyond the fence. She moved to open the gate when Bellamy stopped her by grabbing her sword arm.

              “No way in hell am I letting you back out there,” He said. Clarke almost snarled at his words, but relented to his demand. She knew that storming out there without a plan was suicide, especially since the grounders knew the terrain better than the pirates. With a frustrated groan, she sheathed her sword and looked up into the dark eyes of the pirate captain standing before her.

              “What’s our plan?” She asked. Bellamy rubbed his temple and shrugged, “I have no idea.”

              “We should wait to see if anything changes, and then send out a scouting party to get Craig’s body so we can bury him. It isn’t right to leave him out there to be preyed on like some dead _animal_ ,” Clarke said quietly. Bellamy nodded, and rubbed her shoulder.

              “I agree. In the meantime, we should check our defenses and set up a twenty-four-hour watch. We can’t be surprised again,” He said, nodding at Miller to tell him to start assigning tasks for the crew. He trusted his second to take care of everything.

              Clarke stared at the gate as if she could see past the wood and out into the quiet forest beyond. She clenched her jaw and fiddled with her sword-belt in frustration. She knew it wasn’t her fault Craig was dead- the blame for that fell on the grounder that had shot him- but she couldn’t help but feel guilty. If she hadn’t gotten annoyed at Bellamy for something so insignificant, she wouldn’t have stormed out of the camp and Craig would still be alive. Hot molten anger thrummed in her blood. Why on earth were these natives killing them? What had the pirates done to deserve it? It wasn’t their fault they were shipwrecked and left to scavenge on what appeared to be the native’s territory. If anything, the grounders should have offered aid to the marooned crew, not attacked and killed.

              As if he could sense her inner turmoil, Bellamy curled an arm around Clarke’s waist and drew her close to his warm body.

              “We will survive, remember that,” He whispered in comfort. She smiled up at her friend, a warmth blossoming in her chest. Those words had become their mantra the past few weeks. She too curled her arm around his middle, and leaned her head against his shoulder. The two leaders stared out at the gate in trepidation, but a new sense of determination filled the air as they vowed to avenge their fallen comrade.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope y'all enjoyed, and please comment!   
> Thanks!


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'VE RETURNED! I know i made ridiculous promises before, but being a biology major is hard and I'm trying...  
> Anyhow, here's another chapter! To make up for my...absence...I've added lots of fluffy goodness and relationship development. 
> 
> Comments help give me the motivation to continue, so please give me reviews!!!!

              The hours passed slowly. Bellamy insisted on waiting until there was barely any sun left to go out beyond the fence. Impatient as she felt about their situation, Clarke was inclined to agree with his plan. Leaving sooner increased the risk since they did not know if the natives were lying in wait. They should wait until the last minute, that way the natives might assume the pirates would not return for Craig’s body and leave.

 She had been sitting on a hard stump beside the bonfire for the past few hours, staring out at the fence. Waiting. She knew Bellamy would try to prevent her from going out with the scouts, but he wouldn’t be able stop her no matter how hard he tried. Besides, she knew exactly where the attacked happened, and where Craig’s poor body was still lying slumped against a tree. Unless the Grounder’s decided to take his too.

              “Hey, Clarke,” Raven greeted, settling down on the ground next to the princess. Clarke looked over at the mechanic with a smile, glad to see that her friend was still okay. Over the past week, they hadn’t seen much of each other since they both had different duties to carry out. From what she’d heard, Raven was one of the main engineers for the wall and most of the defenses.

              “Hey Raven,” Clarke smiled. The mechanic handed the blonde a handful of nuts to snack on, which she took gratefully. Her stomach growled at the first taste of the salty morsels, reminding Clarke that she hadn’t eaten anything that day. She felt grateful for the fact that Raven didn’t ask about the attack. Too many of her fellow pirates had approached her with questions she had no desire to answer. Thankfully, the crew got the message after she accidentally screamed at Phillip for probing too far and trying to touch her in an attempt at comfort.

              “Thanks. How’s the building going?” She asked. Raven groaned and tossed her head back and let out a quiet scream of frustration.

              “Not so well then, I take it,” Clarke chuckled. Raven over at the princess and sighed.

              “Too much is happening. There’s too much to do, and not enough of us to do it. Bellamy’s got me trying to get our guns working again, since most of the gunpowder was ruined in the wreck. One of many impossible tasks I’ve been so graciously given,” The engineer grumbled.

              “Do we even have bullets?” Clarke asked, her curiosity piqued. If the pirates could have working guns, they stood a better chance against the grounders.

              “Oh, not you too! I have enough on my plate already,” Raven complained. Clarke smiled sympathetically, as Raven begrudgingly relayed the information on the state of their weapons stockpile:

              “Basically, all our gunpowder is useless, and unless we can get more or if it rains from the sky, our guns are glorified sticks to hit people with. We managed to get a few cannonballs, but no cannons, from the wreckage, and they’re just as useless as our guns without the powder. Plus, the fuses are hard to light after they’ve been dropped in the ocean. To top it all off, most of the crew’s weapons are at the bottom of the sea, since nobody grabbed their swords or knives when they realized they had to abandon ship.” Raven stated. Clarke cursed. She knew their supplies were low, but she didn’t realize how low. Part of her thought that most of the crew had their swords, but apparently not even that was true.

              “Wow, I didn’t realize it was that bad,” She uttered. Raven nodded, and tossed a handful of nuts into her mouth.

              “If only we could get more gunpowder,” She whispered to herself. Raven made a noise of agreement, dusting off her pants. Clarke shot up, startling the mechanic, who soon followed suit.

              “Clarke, what is it?” She asked. Raven could see the gears whirling in the princess’s blue eyes, and said “You have an idea,”

              “I do, but it might not even be possible,” Clarke responded, quickly pulling her friend in for an embrace before running off to go talk to the captain. 

              “And I thought I was crazy,” Raven mumbled before sauntering off to her tent where piles of damp and useless gunpowder awaited her.

 

~~~~~

 

              Clarke found Bellamy sitting in their tent, staring at the dirt in front of him. He had a small twig in one hand, and in the dirt, he had drawn what appeared to be their camp and the island chain they were now inhabiting.

              “Bellamy, there you are,” She said, carefully maneuvering around his haphazard map to sit beside him. Her fingers itched for her art supplies, but there were more important matters at hand.

              “What’s this?” She asked, grabbing the stick from his fingers to fix some of his map. She was in the middle of adjusting the proportions when he spoke, “I can’t figure a way out of this, Clarke.”

              Her hand stilled and silence filled the tent. Is that what he had been doing all day? Trying to solve their shipwrecked issue all on his own?

              “Don’t say that. Besides, you’ve locked yourself away in here, so how can you hope to find a way out of this all on your own,” She gazed up at the captain with worry. He wasn’t one to give up, which made his current attitude very problematic. The pirate captain sighed, knowing that she was right but too stubborn to admit it. He should be consulting with his lieutenants, but instead he holed up in his tent alone. Part of him was afraid to admit he had no idea what to do. He had no luck in creating a plan to help them escape off this godforsaken patch of sand.

              “Without a ship, there isn’t a way to get off this island.” He said solemnly. Clarke shook her head. She did not want to admit defeat or accept that she would never get off this island, and never fix her family’s mistakes.

              “How close are we to Arcadia? Or any port?” She asked. Bellamy hummed in thought, then expanded his map with a few quick lines to reveal that they were indeed far away from any real civilization.

              “There’s a reason we picked this place to drop Murphy and his merry band of mutineers,” Bellamy explained. As Clarke stared at the makeshift map, an old memory rose in her mind. A memory of a very similar looking map- but on real paper and drawn to scale with tide and ship patterns.

              “Wait a second, is this Port Lauderon?” She asked, pointing to the distant shores of her kingdom. Bellamy nodded, and gave her a curious look. Clarke snatched the stick from his grasp again, and started lightly drawing curved lines from the port across the sea between the islands and the mainland.

              “If I remember correctly, these are the routes for the warships. They’re pretty strictly followed, and ever since my father died regular patrols of the sea became mandatory.” She explained as she sketched. When she was finished, she looked over the looping ship routes and smiled when she saw one that swooped dangerously close to the island chain they currently called home. She marked a point on the map she had drawn and smiled up at the captain, “I can get us off this island chain. If I’m right, I know exactly who captains the ship that patrols this area and he’s a good friend of my family.”

              “Why didn’t you say anything before?” He asked in disbelief.

              “I didn’t know where we were. If I had known that we were headed to Port Lauderon, and if I had seen a map before we crashed, I could have figured it out sooner,” She stated. Bellamy nodded in understanding.

              “So, who is this Captain of the Navy friend of yours that won’t mind rescuing a bunch of rowdy pirates?” He asked. Clarke bit her lip, memories of her childhood friendship resurfacing.

              “His name is Wells. Wells Jaha.” She said. Recognition bloomed in Bellamy’s eyes at the name.

              “You mean the son of the current Royal Advisor, the most powerful man in Arcadia?” He asked with incredulity. She winced, but nodded, “He’s one of my best friends from my childhood. I trust him to help us.”

              Bellamy took a deep breath and shook his head. He looked down at the sketch in the dirt, then into Clarke’s honest blue eyes. He seemed to find the answer he was searching for in those ocean blue eyes, and nodded.

              “I can’t believe I’m about to put the safety of my crew in to the hands of a Captain of the Royal Navy,” He muttered. Clarke laughed, not believing it entirely herself.

              “Me neither, but it looks like we don’t have a choice. I just hope the grounders don’t kill more of us before we can escape,” Clarke said with a frown. Her fingers fiddled nervously with the twig. Bellamy sensed the princess’s anxiety, and he slowly leaned over so that their arms pressed together. He felt her muscles stiffen, and then slowly relax.

              Clarke was still not used to affectionate body contact, but Bellamy was slowly helping her get through her painful past. She leaned her head against his shoulder, part of her laughing at how even seated he was still a good head taller than her. She felt her mind slow down and her body relax as Bellamy’s warmth seeped through her skin. They sat there together in comfortable silence until Miller’s voice echoed through the camp. The two leaders lifted their heads towards the noise, then simultaneously stood and rushed out of the tent.

              “What’s going on?” Bellamy bellowed. Clarke’s hand rested on her sword as she followed Bellamy to the gate.

              “It’s almost dark,” Miller said, nodding to the setting sun in the west. Bellamy’s jaw clenched, and he looked down at Clarke.

              “I’m guessing there’s no way in hell I can convince you to stay here?” He asked, to which she smiled and nodded. Bellamy groaned, but turned to face the gathering crew and announced, “I’m going out with a few scouts and Clarke to get our fallen brethren’s body so we can put his soul to rest. We will be back before dark, and while I’m gone Miller is in charge. Keep your eyes sharp,”

              Clarke saw Miller’s annoyance at being ordered to stay put while his captain ventured out into dangerous territory, yet he stayed silent. The princess wondered if one day she would earn that level of trust with someone. As she mused about the future of her kingdom’s court, Bellamy picked out about four more scouts to go with them into the forest, and together they drew their swords and exited the safety of the camp.

~~~~~

 

              “Stay close, keep your eyes peeled,” Bellamy ordered. He and Clarke made up the head of the group with the rest of their party fanning out behind them in a pyramid. The light from the setting sun glinted off Clarke’s sword, the reflection casting eerie shadows as they slowly moved deeper and deeper into the forest. As they trekked through the trees the canopy above them thickened until there was only small spots of light filtering through the thick branches. Despite the adrenaline pumping through her veins and the sickening fear dripping down her spine, the artist in Clarke couldn’t help but appreciate the beauty surrounding them.

              Soon, the scouting group had reached the ground where Clarke had been so suddenly attacked. Luckily, the natives hadn’t taken Craig’s body like they did with Jasper. She turned away as the others approached the corpse, each paying their respects before lifting his body to carry back to camp. Bellamy came up behind the princess and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. She reached up and gripped his calloused fingers with her own, her thumb absentmindedly stroking his palm. Clarke could not remember when she became so comfortable with the captain, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t happy about how close the two leaders were becoming.

              “Let’s head back, quickly. I don’t want anyone out past sundown,” Bellamy commanded. The princess glanced up at the branches hanging above them, noting how what little light shone through was tinted with the oranges and reds of the setting sun. The pirates nodded, a heavy silence weighing down their voices. They had lost yet another good friend to this island.

              Clarke was lost in thought as they headed back. Her mind buzzed with thoughts on their potential rescue, and on her childhood memories. The pirates too, were occupied by their grief and many were realizing that there was a good chance they would die on this island, feeding the dirt with their blood and nourishing the soil with their decaying flesh buried deep in the ground. The mood as they trekked back to their newfound home was grim, to say the least.

              Bellamy, trying not to let his worry get the best of him, was focused on the princess walking beside him. Now that he knew her identity, and had finally processed properly that the girl who had spat in his face during their first meeting was actual royalty, he noticed her refined and regal posture. She carried herself as straight and tall as she could, and he could almost see her younger self practicing walking with stacks of books atop her blonde locks. How he hadn’t made the connection before was astounding. While her fingers were almost just as calloused as his own, he could tell she had once had skin unmarred by tragedy or hard work.

              The pirate Captain found that with each day he learned more about her, the more he felt his feelings deepen. What had started as simple physical attraction had morphed into something more…something with meaning. What, he would never admit, but the pirate knew he was travelling down a path without a light at the end of the tunnel. Despite her violent nature and past, and how easily she adopted a pirate’s identity, Clarke was still a princess. Still the future Queen of his country. And even though he knew he was developing deep feelings for her, he knew that she could never reciprocate them. She was destined for greater things than slumming around with a lowly pirate with nothing but shame to his name. His heart, however, held out hope that one day she might love him in return. Even if for only one minute, or one second, it would be worth it. She was worth it. He would follow her to Arcadia, and to her throne because he knew who she was deep in her soul, and she was _good._ She was what the world needed. She held enough love for her people to mend a little piece of this broken society they lived in.

              Clarke, however, was blind to her partner’s growing fondness. As Miller welcomed them back into the safety of the camp, her mind was still distracted. The horizon swallowed up the sun, and darkness settled on the small island. Clarke found herself seated on the cold ground in front of one of the many fires littered throughout the camp, her gaze fixed on the dancing flames. She had claimed a spot at the edge of the camp, underneath one of the few trees left within the walls of the camp. She heard most of the survivors gathering for Craig’s funeral service, but she stayed rooted to her spot on the ground. She looked up at the night sky, where the stars glittered against inky black without a care in the world. The stars did not care who lived or who died down here on earth. The heavens were far from reach along with the calm they brought. Oh, how Clarke wished she could fly up and join the moon in its twirling dance with the stars around the earth she was stuck on.

              The sound of Bellamy’s voice cut through her reverie, reminding her of the pain she shared with the rest of the pirates she now called family. She heard his speech praising Craig until his untimely end, but still she remained seated by the fire. She was tired of funerals. She was tired of getting stabbed and cut and attacked. The nick on her leg was a reminder of the danger they all faced, in addition to the light in the small tent where Jasper remained confined to bedrest. Hot molten anger stirred within her. Why did they have to stay in this small meadow and wait for the possibility of rescue, from soldiers that might very well decide to let them die on this wretched island? Clarke wanted to fight. She wanted to show these Grounders what her pirates were capable of. She was reminded of Raven’s rant over their lack of supplies.

              People started to walk past her with whispers of sorrow and grief, and Clarke focused on the present. She looked over to see Bellamy walking towards her, the other pirates scattering throughout the camp to try and forget their sorrows. Some lifted flasks containing the last of their rum, others went off to sleep off the tragedy. Octavia, along with a few others, was one of the former.

              “Hey,” Bellamy greeted as he sank down next to her. She smiled at the captain and asked, “how are you doing?”

              “The crew is doing okay, grieving but okay. A lot are starting to lose hope for returning to the sea though,” He replied. Clarke tucked her idea of fighting the natives back for a later time, instead choosing to focus on the man beside her.

              “I asked how _you_ were doing,” She said. Bellamy let out a heaving breath and shook his head. Clarke cautiously set her hand atop his and linked her fingers with his. Bellamy’s hand shifted below hers and turned so that their fingers were interlocked. Clarke’s thumb stroked the back of his hand, and she felt her heart pulse erratically when Bellamy moved so that their shoulders and legs touched. The princess bit the inside of her cheek as a pleasant warmth fluttered across her skin at his proximity.

              “I’m not doing so hot,” Bellamy finally admitted, keeping his gaze locked on the fire. Clarke hummed in agreement, leaning into his warm body almost unconsciously. She knew in her mind that she had no business letting these feelings of hers develop or affect how she treated the pirate captain, but her heart had other plans. Just this once she indulged her desires. She would give in to her heart’s longing only for tonight.

              Clarke set her golden head against his shoulder and tucked her nose in the crook of his neck. She felt Bellamy’s muscles tense, then slowly relax as the two let their bodies comfort their lamenting hearts. The final vestiges of adrenaline from their eventful day finally trickled out of their bloodstream, and exhaustion took its place.

              “We should probably go to bed soon,” She mumbled. After a _nother_ near-death experience, Clarke felt safer and more comfortable with Bellamy than ever. Just having him beside her to lean on was becoming an addictive habit.

              “Probably,” He whispered. He shifted against the tree at their backs, and Clarke’s head fell onto his chest. She grunted, and felt his rumbling chuckle against her cheek. With a small smile, she moved so that she was almost sitting in his lap, her arms wrapping around his torso. Just tonight, she thought, just for now she would indulge her temptations. Bellamy slung one of his arms over her shoulder and pulled her closer. Her tired mind let their behavior slide, since they had basically been sharing a bed for the past week. Together the couple slipped into a peaceful sleep cuddled in each other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this short little chapter, and if you feel inclined to draw the scene at the end, by all means...go ahead ;)   
> I'd love to see fanart of this fic, but I know I should update more frequently for that to even become a possibility.   
> Love you all, and please don't forget to comment!


	15. Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

 

              Bellamy felt someone warm cuddled in his arms when he finally woke. Hair tickled his chin and neck, and the pirate spent a few moments to enjoy the feeling of Clarke in his arms before opening his eyes. His lips parted in a gentle smile when he glanced down and saw the princess still dozing peacefully. They were still mostly in the same position as when they slipped into sleep the night before: Clarke resting against his chest with her arms encircling his waist. One of his arms was slung over her shoulders, firmly holding her in place, and the other was resting on one of her arms and their legs were an intertwined mess. Even though there was bark jabbing painfully into his back, Bellamy did his best to remain still as to not wake Clarke. He absentmindedly stroked the soft skin on her arm as his thoughts wandered. The sun was barely peeking up above the fence, scattering rays of golden light across the camp in sparse patches.

              Clarke’s words from the day before resurfaced as dawn slowly spread through the campsite. Part of him felt like their relationship changed after the night before, evolving into something more profound and personal. His masculine ego hummed in satisfaction, but his mind helped keep his hopes from rising too high. They were more than partners now, friends even. That was all. It was in that moment that the pirate captain realized that ever since he shared a bed with the blonde princess, his unconscious mind was no longer plagued by his usual cocktail of nightmares. He hadn’t noticed before because of how hectic his days had been since the shipwreck. He shrugged the thought off, telling himself that it was just because he had human companionship to soothe his subconscious.

              Before his thoughts spiraled any further down that dangerous rabbit hole, he felt the woman in his arms stir. Bellamy kept still, but looked down at the princess, umber eyes meeting blue. He smirked when Clarke remained propped up against his chest, moving only to unwrap her arms from his waist. The healer turned her nose into his chest and heaved a deep sigh.

              “For a second I dreamed we were back on the ship,” She whispered. Bellamy grunted and said, “Wouldn’t that be nice.”

               The two leaders stared out at their camp, watching as the few early risers stumbled around. Clarke’s heart ached as she saw someone walk over to their graveyard and touch the stones marking one of the graves. She sat up and placed a hand on Bellamy’s shoulder and declared, “I think it’s time we finally started to fight back against the natives.”     

              The captain’s eyes lit up, and he leaned forwards with the corner of his mouth turning up. Her words stirred his violent nature that had been slumbering for too long.

              “I agree,” He replied.

              “We can’t just wait around in here. We’re sitting ducks,” She spat out. Bellamy nodded in agreement, his gaze turning to the tent where his younger sister was still sleeping.

              “How much longer until that Navy ship gets close enough for us to signal for help?” He asked. Clarke’s lips pursed and counted on her fingers the days they had been stranded so far. She’d have to consult the stars later that night to be sure, but her memory from when they were still sailing gave her a good estimate.

              “About three? If my math is right,” She said. Bellamy nodded solemnly. He had been hoping for a smaller number, but he was sure they could survive three more days on the island. The natives had become increasingly aggressive as the days went on, and he hoped the savages didn’t have anything planned for their shipwrecked neighbors anytime soon.

              “I’m sure we’ll survive, Bell,” Clarke said reassuringly. She started to stand when Bellamy grabbed her hand to stop her. He had giddy smile on his face, and Clarke froze when she realized her mistake. Heat flushed her face when she finally realized what the captain was so damn happy about. She’d called him Bell, the endearing nickname Octavia had for her older brother.

              “Bellamy, I meant Bellamy,” She sputtered, wrenching her hand from his. The captain rose slowly, a carnivorous look shining in his eyes. She felt a pleasurable yearning coil in her core from the look he gave her, but she tried to force down her desires.

              “Don’t look so damn pleased with yourself. It was just a slip of the tongue,” She said, willing her feet to walk away from the man in front of her. The captain, a ravenous desire in his gaze, leaned into Clarke’s personal space. His freckled nose was practically touching hers, and Clarke couldn’t turn away from his eyes. She felt like a rabbit trapped by the gaze of a hungry wolf. Bellamy’s dark eyes darted down to the lip Clarke had trapped between her teeth.

              “I don’t mind if you call me Bell, Princess,” He murmured, his hot breath fanning against her skin. His nickname for her changed from teasing to flirty in an instant. The tingling she felt dancing across her skin roused Clarke from her enamored stupor, and she tilted her head ever so slightly. A competitive light shone in her blue eyes, and she closed the gap between them so that their foreheads touched. A carnal piece of her relished in the way Bellamy’s breath hitched when their skin touched.

              “How many times do I have to tell you not to call me Princess?” She whispered. Their eyes locked as thick sexual tension filled the air between them. Before she did anything she would regret, Clarke took a step away from the alluring man and his seductive smirk. She cleared her throat and said, “We should, um, get to work.”

              The captain only nodded, his eyes still locked with hers. Clarke coughed and left the pirate standing below the branches of the tree. She turned back when she was halfway to the rations supply, to see that he was still staring after her.

              When Clarke started chatting with those who were already awake, Bellamy finally turned away. He ran a hand through his unruly curls and let out a shaky breath. That had been too close. _Way_ too close. He tried to push down his lustful hunger and thoughts of Clarke’s soft pink lips. He had minimal success. 

 

~~~~~

 

              After snacking on a pouch of berries, Clarke made her way to the hut she had been using as an infirmary. She lifted the flap and ducked into the small hut. She smiled when she saw Monty sleeping slumped up against the wall of the hut with his hand outstretched towards Jasper. Since Jasper was still sleeping, the healer tried to be as gentle as possible as she checked his bandages, which had been freshly changed sometime in the past hour. She let out a content sigh when she saw no signs of infection, and instead the beginning stages of healing in the wound. Clarke reached up to touch Jasper’s forehead to check his temperature, and smiled down at her patient as his eyes fluttered open.

              “How’re you doing?” She asked softly. She didn’t want to wake Monty just yet. He’d been sacrificing his sleep so that he could care for his injured friend. Jasper gave the princess a weak smile and tried to form a thumbs-up with his hand.

              “-‘mm great,” He mumbled weakly. Clarke chuckled and whispered, “You just need to rest as much as you can until you’re healed. You’re still on bedrest, you hear me?”

              Jasper nodded, then slipped back into his restful slumber. She glanced over at Monty, and frowned when she saw how dark the bags under his eyes had become. She should have been helping with Jasper more, since _she_ was the ship’s healer. As she left to leave both boys to get some much-needed rest, Clarke made a vow to focus on her duties before anything personal. Bellamy’s dark molten chocolate eyes appeared in her mind’s eye. With a shake of her head, the princess decided that she could not let her feelings get in the way of her responsibilities. So, she made a mental list of what she had to get done before she could give in to her desires: survive the next few days on this island; successfully signal Wells’ ship and keep the pirates from getting arrested; get to Port Lauderon and commission a new ship, or commandeer one, they were pirate’s after all; return to her kingdom and restore the social order; take control of her kingdom and find out who killed her father; _and_ learn how to be a just queen. _Then_ , she could be with someone.

              Yea, Clarke was almost positive Bellamy would not wait that long, or help her with each item on that list. Her heart, although conflicted from these new emotions, longed to be able to run across the camp and grab Bellamy by his broad shoulders and pull him down for a passionate kiss.

              Not that she would ever do that. _Ever_. Before she could fantasize about the handsome captain, his younger sister bounded over and pulled the princess into a warm embrace.

              “Hey Clarke!” The girl exclaimed. Clarke giggled at Octavia’s enthusiasm. She always seemed to be so happy all the time. She knew it had to be exhausting to be so upbeat twenty-four-seven. The princess mumbled a greeting, a part of her felt awkward around Octavia after her romantic morning with her older brother. While they stood snacking on their morning rations, Clarke noticed Octavia gazing longingly out at a break in between the fenceposts of the perimeter wall. Looking back, the healer hadn’t seen as much of the younger Blake sibling the past few days. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she did not want to confront Octavia without proof.

              “The island is beautiful, isn’t it?” Octavia sighed, a dreamy look in her eyes. Clarke raised a brow at her sudden declaration, but agreed. “Yea, too bad there’s violent natives.”

              “Maybe they are just defending their territory,” Octavia exclaimed. She avoided Clarke’s gaze, and that’s when the princess knew there was something more to her gut suspicions.

              “That may be true, but they should at least try to communicate with us. They most likely witnessed our shipwreck, and yet they still attacked without cause,” Clarke said firmly. She hoped Octavia was not getting any romantic notions about the grounders in her head. Adding having to deal with an emotional teenage girl to her list of troubles was the last thing Clarke wanted.

              “Be careful, Octavia. They’re killers,” Clarke warned. Octavia turned and gave the princess an angered look, then spat, “So are you.”

              Octavia stalked off, leaving Clarke standing alone with a shocked and hurt expression on her face. She dropped her remaining rations and felt the familiar signs of a panic attack. Her heart started to pound erratically in her chest, and her breaths were short and uneven. She gripped her shaking hands together and tried to get a hold of herself. More and more people were waking and walking around the camp, and Clarke was struck by a sudden need to get _out._ She had to be alone. She hurried over to the farthest corner of the meadow, where small grove of trees grew, and curled up in the shadows of the canopies and tried to regain control.

 

~~~~~~~~~

 

              After her little spat with Clarke, Octavia stormed off to her usual spot by the fence, where there was a crack between the fenceposts large enough to see through. She peered out of the opening and scanned the tree-line for a familiar speck of white. Her breath hitched when her gaze caught on the delicate white flowers peeking out from the bark of one of the trees. With a sparkle dancing in her eyes, Octavia slowly walked over to her tent, then crept behind it after making sure nobody was looking her way. She pried a loose section of the fence off to the side, and then wriggled her way through the small opening and out into open air.

Octavia had stumbled upon the loose panel in the fence by accident, but once she realized what she literally stumbled into, her spirit felt renewed by her newfound freedom. In the camp, she was the captain’s little baby sister, but when she was out exploring the island, she was Octavia. Pirate. Young woman. She was free.

              Octavia dashed over to the tree-line and waited with baited breath for any sign of her new friend. A smile crept across her lips when she felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around her waist from behind. The teenager giggled and looked over her shoulder at the man holding her, a similar gleeful expression mirrored on his face.

              “Let’s go,” He stated, leading Octavia deeper into the jungle.

 

~~~~~~~

 

              Murphy ran. It was all he’d done since he landed on this scrap of sand Bellamy called an island. He was sure that he was the only one left of his fellow mutineers. At first the pirates were just angry about being abandoned, and sat for the first night on the coast waiting for the familiar silhouette of their ship to reappear on the horizon. They were sadly, disappointed come sunrise. After that, everything went to shit.

              Now, all he knew was running. He hadn’t slept nor eaten in days, but there was no time to stop. He could be caught any second now. Murphy heard _them_ behind him. He willed his legs to move faster, to jump over the tangling roots and vines with more ease and speed, but sadly he had no such luck. The frightened pirate lost his footing, and crashed onto the jungle floor, leaves and sticks sticking to his hair and clothes. Cursing, he tried to push himself up to his feet, but his arms gave out halfway and he fell once again. The string of curses falling from his mouth stopped when a pair of feet stepped into his field of view.

              “Please, please don’t kill me-” Murphy begged, ashamed of the crack in his voice and the tears falling down his cheeks. The booted foot reeled back, then there was only pain. Murphy screamed as his vision slowly turned to black, and the man dragged the pirate through the muddy jungle.      

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooh, a new chapter so soon? I didn't know I had it in me...  
> Anyway, now we're finally getting to the good stuff! Soon we'll meet some of my fav grounder characters, and I've decided not to include Lexa in this story, cause I don't want the drama that comes along with her character...
> 
> Anyway, please kudos and comment! I love hearing from you guys, and I'll try to get out another chapter soon! Spring break is next week, so I should be able to get something written then. 
> 
> (and we'll be getting to some good bellarke shit soon...but not too fast...this is a slowburn, remember)


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